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THE  CLUE  OF  THE 
TWISTED  CANDLE 


^A 


And  me,"  said  a  voice.     She  sprang  up  and  turned  round  with  a 
look  of  terror.    T.  X.  stood  by  the  window  curtains. 

^  See  page  ajb 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE 
TWISTED  CANDLE 


BY 

EDGAR  WALLACE 

Author  of 
'Angel,  Etquire,"  *'The  Other  Man,"  *tc. 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  BY 

L  D.  SISSON 


BOSTON 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1916 

By  small,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 

(incoepobated) 


Printers 

8.  J.  Pabkhill  &  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE 
TWISTED  CANDLE 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE 
TWISTED  CANDLE 

CHAPTER  I 

The  4.15  from  Victoria  to  Lewes  had  been  held 
up  at  Three  Bridges  in  consequence  of  a  derailment 
and,  though  John  Lexman  was  fortunate  enough 
to  catch  a  belated  connection  to  Beston  Tracey,  the 
wagonette  which  was  the  sole  communication  be- 
tween the  village  and  the  outside  world  had  gone. 

"If  you  can  wait  half  an  hour,  Mr.  Lexman," 
said  the  station-master,  "I  will  telephone  up  to 
the  village  and  get  Briggs  to  come  down  for  you." 

John  Lexman  looked  out  upon  the  dripping 
landscape  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I'll  walk,"  he  said  shortly  and,  leaving  his  bag 
in  the  station-master's  care  and  buttoning  his  mack- 
intosh to  his  chin,  he  stepped  forth  resolutely  into 
the  rain  to  negotiate  the  two  miles  which  separated 
the  tiny  railway  station  from  Little  Tracey. 

1 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  downpour  was  incessant  and  likely  to  last 
through  the  night.  The  high  hedges  on  either  side 
of  the  narrow  road  were  so  many  leafy  cascades; 
the  road  itself  was  in  places  ankle  deep  in  mud. 
He  stopped  under  the  protecting  cover  of  a  big 
tree  to  fill  and  light  his  pipe  and  with  its  bowl 
turned  downwards  continued  his  walk.  But  for 
the  driving  rain  which  searched  every  crevice  and 
found  every  chink  in  his  waterproof  armor,  he 
preferred,  indeed  welcomed,  the  walk. 

The  road  from  Beston  Tracey  to  Little  Beston 
was  associated  in  his  mind  with  some  of  the  finest 
situations  in  his  novels.  It  was  on  this  road  that 
he  had  conceived  "The  Tilbury  Mystery."  Be- 
tween the  station  and  the  house  he  had  woven  the 
plot  which  had  made  "Gregory  Standish"  the  most 
popular  detective  story  of  the  year.  For  John 
Lexman  was  a  maker  of  cunning  plots. 

If,  in  the  literary  world,  he  was  regarded  by 
superior  persons  as  a  writer  of  "shockers,"  he  had 
a  large  and  increasing  public  who  were  fascinated 
by  the  wholesome  and  thrilling  stories  he  wrote, 
and  who  held  on  breathlessly  to  the  skein  of  mys- 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

tery  until  they  came  to  the  denouement  he  had 
planned. 

But  no  thought  of  books,  or  plots,  or  stories 
filled  his  troubled  mind  as  he  strode  along  the  de- 
serted road  to  Little  Beston.  He  had  had  two 
interviews  in  London,  one  of  which  under  ordinary 
circumstances  would  have  filled  him  with  joy. 
He  had  seen  T.  X.  and  "T.  X."  was  T.  X.  Mere- 
dith, who  would  one  day  be  Chief  of  the  Crim- 
inal Investigation  Department  and  was  now  an 
Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police,  engaged  in  the 
more  delicate  work  of  that  department. 

In  his  erratic,  tempestuous  way,  T.  X.  had  sug- 
gested the  greatest  idea  for  a  plot  that  any  author 
could  desire.  But  it  was  not  of  T.  X.  that  John 
Lexman  thought  as  he  breasted  the  hill,  on  the 
slope  of  which  was  the  tiny  habitation  known 
by  the  somewhat  magnificent  title  of  Beston 
Priory. 

It  was  the  interview  he  had  had  with  the  Greek 
on  the  previous  day  which  filled  his  mind,  and  he 
frowned  as  he  recalled  it.  He  opened  the  little 
wicket  gate  and  went  through  the  plantation  to 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  house,  doing  his  best  to  shake  off  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  remarkable  and  unedifying  discussion 
he  had  had  with  the  moneylender. 

Beston  Priory  was  little  more  than  a  cottage, 
though  one  of  its  walls  was  an  indubitable  relic 
of  that  establishment  which  a  pious  Howard  had 
erected  in  the  thirteenth  century.  A  small  and 
unpretentious  building,  built  in  the  Elizabethan 
style  with  quaint  gables  and  high  chimneys,  its 
latticed  windows  and  sunken  gardens,  its  rosary 
and  its  tiny  meadow,  gave  it  a  certain  manorial 
completeness  which  was  a  source  of  great  pride  to 
its  owner. 

He  passed  under  the  thatched  porch,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  in  the  broad  hallway  as  he  stripped 
his  drenching  mackintosh. 

The  hall  was  in  darkness.  Grace  would  prob- 
ably be  changing  for  dinner,  and  he  decided  that 
in  his  present  mood  he  would  not  disturb  her.  He 
passed  through  the  long  passage  which  led  to  the 
big  study  at  the  back  of  the  house.  A  fire  burnt 
redly  in  the  old-fashioned  grate  and  the  snug  com- 
fort of  the  room  brought  a  sense  of  ease  and  re- 

4 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

lief.  He  changed  his  shoes,  and  lit  the  table 
lamp. 

The  room  was  obviously  a  man's  den.  The 
leather-covered  chairs,  the  big  and  well-filled 
bookcase  which  covered  one  wall  of  the  room,  the 
huge,  solid-oak  writing-desk,  covered  with  books 
and  half-finished  manuscripts,  spoke  unmistak- 
ably of  its  owner's  occupation. 

After  he  had  changed  his  shoes,  he  refilled  his 
pipe,  walked  over  to  the  fire,  and  stood  looking 
down  into  its  glowing  heart. 

He  was  a  man  a  little  above  medium  height, 
slimly  built,  with  a  breadth  of  shoulder  which 
was  suggestive  of  the  athlete.  He  had  indeed 
rowed  4  in  his  boat,  and  had  fought  his  way  into 
the  semi-finals  of  the  amateur  boxing  champion- 
ship of  England.  His  face  was  strong,  lean,  yet 
well-moulded.  His  eyes  were  grey  and  deep, 
his  eyebrows  straight  and  a  little  forbidding. 
The  clean-shaven  mouth  was  big  and  generous, 
and  the  healthy  tan  of  his  cheek  told  of  a  life 
lived  in  the  open  air. 

There  was  nothing  of  the  recluse  or  the  student 
5 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

in  his  appearance.  He  was  in  fact  a  typical, 
healthy-looking  Britisher,  very  much  like  any 
other  man  of  his  class  whom  one  would  meet  in 
the  mess-room  of  the  British  army,  in  the  ward- 
rooms of  the  fleet,  or  in  the  far-off  posts  of  the 
Empire,  where  the  administrative  cogs  of  the 
great  machine  are  to  be  seen  at  work. 

There  was  a  little  tap  at  the  door,  and  before 
he  could  say  "Come  in"  it  was  pushed  open  and 
Grace  Lexman  entered. 

If  you  described  her  as  brave  and  sweet  you 
might  secure  from  that  brief  description  both  her 
manner  and  her  charm.  He  half  crossed  the  room 
to  meet  her,  and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

*T  didn't  know  you  were  back  until — "  she  said, 
linking  her  arm  in  his. 

"Until  you  saw  the  horrible  mess  my  mackin- 
tosh has  made,"  he  smiled.  "I  know  your  meth- 
ods, Watson!" 

She  laughed,  but  became  serious  again. 

*T  am  very  glad  you've  come  back.  We  have 
a  visitor,"  she  said. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows. 
6 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"A  visitor'?  Whoever  came  down  on  a  day  like 
this*?" 

She  looked  at  him  a  little  strangely. 

"Mr.  Kara,"  she  said. 

"Kara?     How  long  has  he  been  here?" 

"He  came  at  four." 

There  was  nothing  enthusiastic  in  her  tone. 

"I  can't  understand  why  you  don't  like  old 
Kara,"  rallied  her  husband. 

"There  are  very  many  reasons,"  she  replied,  a 
little  curtly  for  her. 

"Anyway,"  said  John  Lexman,  after  a  mo- 
ment's thought,  "his  arrival  is  rather  opportune. 
Where  is  he?" 

"He  is  in  the  drawing-room." 

The  Priory  drawing-room  was  a  low-ceilinged, 
rambling  apartment,  "all  old  print  and  chrysan- 
themums," to  use  Lexman's  description.  Cosy 
armchairs,  a  grand  piano,  an  almost  medieval 
open  grate,  faced  with  dull-green  tiles,  a  well- 
worn  but  cheerful  carpet  and  two  big  silver 
candelabras  were  the  principal  features  which  at- 
tracted the  newcomer. 

7 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

There  was  in  this  room  a  harmony,  a  quiet  or- 
der and  a  soothing  quality  which  made  it  a  haven 
of  rest  to  a  literary  man  with  j  agged  nerves.  Two 
big  bronze  bowls  were  filled  with  early  violets, 
another  blazed  like  a  pale  sun  with  primroses,  and 
the  early  vv^oodland  flowers  filled  the  room  with 
a  faint  fragrance. 

A  man  rose  to  his  feet,  as  John  Lexman  en- 
tered and  crossed  the  room  with  an  easy  carriage. 
He  was  a  man  possessed  of  singular  beauty  of 
face  and  of  figure.  Half  a  head  taller  than  the 
author,  he  carried  himself  with  such  a  grace  as 
to  conceal  his  height. 

'T  missed  you  in  town,"  he  said,  "so  I  thought 
I'd  run  down  on  the  off  chance  of  seeing  you." 

He  spoke  in  the  well-modulated  tone  of  one 
who  had  had  a  long  acquaintance  with  the  public 
schools  and  universities  of  England.  There  was 
no  trace  of  any  foreign  accent,  yet  Remington 
Kara  was  a  Greek  and  had  been  born  and 
partly  educated  in  the  more  turbulent  area  of 
Albania. 

The  two  men  shook  hands  warmly. 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You'll  stay  to  dinner?' 

Kara  glanced  round  with  a  smile  at  Grace  Lex- 
man.  She  sat  uncomfortably  upright,  her  hands 
loosely  folded  on  her  lap,  her  face  devoid  of  en- 
couragement. 

"If  Mrs.  Lexman  doesn't  object,"  said  the 
Greek. 

"I  should  be  pleased,  if  you  would,"  she  said, 
almost  mechanically;  "it  is  a  horrid  night  and  you 
won't  get  anything  worth  eating  this  side  of  Lon- 
don and  I  doubt  very  much,"  she  smiled  a  little, 
"if  the  meal  I  can  give  you  will  be  worthy  of  that 
description." 

"What  you  can  give  me  will  be  more  than  suf- 
ficient," he  said,  with  a  little  bow,  and  turned  to 
her  husband. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  deep  in  a  discus- 
sion of  books  and  places,  and  Grace  seized  the 
opportunity  to  make  her  escape.  From  books  in 
general  to  Lexman's  books  in  particular  the  con- 
versation flowed. 

"I've  read  every  one  of  them,  you  know,"  said 
Kara. 

9 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

John  made  a  little  face.  "Poor  devil,"  he  said 
sardonically. 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Kara,  "I  am  not  to  be 
pitied.  There  is  a  great  criminal  lost  in  you, 
Lexman." 

"Thank  you,"  said  John. 

"I  am  not  being  uncomplimentary,  am  I?" 
smiled  the  Greek.  "I  am  merely  referring  to  the 
ingenuity  of  your  plots.  Sometimes  your  books 
baffle  and  annoy  me.  If  I  cannot  see  the  solution 
of  your  mysteries  before  the  book  is  half  through, 
it  angers  me  a  little.  Of  course  in  the  majority  of 
cases  I  know  the  solution  before  I  have  reached 
the  fifth  chapter." 

John  looked  at  him  in  surprise  and  was  some- 
what piqued. 

"I  flatter  myself  it  is  impossible  to  tell  how  my 
stories  will  end  until  the  last  chapter,"  he  said. 

Kara  nodded. 

"That  would  be  so  in  the  case  of  the  average 
reader,  but  you  forget  that  I  am  a  student.  I 
follow  every  little  thread  of  the  clue  which  you 
leave  exposed." 

10 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

".You  should  meet  T.  X.,"  said  John,  with  a 
laugh,  as  he  rose  from  his  chair  to  poke  the  fire. 

"T.  X.^" 

"T.  X.  Meredith.  He  is  the  most  ingenious 
beggar  you  could  meet.  We  were  at  Caius  to- 
gether, and  he  is  by  way  of  being  a  great  pal  of 
mine.  He  is  in  the  Criminal  Investigation  De- 
partment." 

Kara  nodded.  There  was  the  light  of  interest 
in  his  eyes  and  he  would  have  pursued  the  dis- 
cussion further,  but  at  the  moment  dinner  was  an- 
nounced. 

It  was  not  a  particularly  cheerful  meal  because 
Grace  did  not  as  usual  join  in  the  conversation, 
and  it  was  left  to  Kara  and  to  her  husband  to 
supply  the  deficiencies.  She  was  experiencing  a 
curious  sense  of  depression,  a  premonition  of  evil 
which  she  could  not  define.  Again  and  again  in 
the  course  of  the  dinner  she  took  her  mind  back  to 
the  events  of  the  day  to  discover  the  reason  for 
her  unease. 

Usually  when  she  adopted  this  method  she 
came  upon  the  trivial  causes  in  which  apprehen- 

11 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

sion  was  born,  but  now  she  was  puzzled  to  find 
that  a  solution  was  denied  her.  Her  letters  of 
the  morning  had  been  pleasant,  neither  the  house 
nor  the  servants  had  given  her  any  trouble.  She 
was  well  herself,  and  though  she  knew  John 
had  a  little  money  trouble,  since  his  unfortunate 
speculation  in  Roumanian  gold  shares,  and  she 
half  suspected  that  he  had  had  to  borrow  money  to 
make  good  his  losses,  yet  his  prospects  were  so 
excellent  and  the  success  of  his  last  book  so  prom- 
ising that  she,  probably  seeing  with  a  clearer 
vision  the  unimportance  of  those  money  worries, 
was  less  concerned  about  the  problem  than  he. 

"You  will  have  your  coffee  in  the  study,  I 
suppose,"  said  Grace,  "and  I  know  you'll  excuse 
me;  I  have  to  see  Mrs.  Chandler  on  the  mundane 
subject  of  laundry." 

She  favoured  Kara  with  a  little  nod  as  she  left 
the  room  and  touched  John's  shoulder  lightly  with 
her  hand  in  passing. 

Kara's  eyes  followed  her  graceful  figure  until 
she  was  out  of  view,  then 

12 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  want  to  see  you,  Kara,"  said  John  Lexman, 
"if  you  will  give  me  five  minutes." 

"You  can  have  five  hours,  if  you  like,"  said  the 
other,  easily. 

They  went  into  the  study  together;  the  maid 
brought  the  coffee  and  liqueur,  and  placed  them 
on  a  little  table  near  the  fire  and  disappeared. 

For  a  time  the  conversation  was  general. 
Kara,  who  was  a  frank  admirer  of  the  comfort  of 
the  room  and  who  lamented  his  own  inability  to 
secure  with  money  the  cosiness  which  John  had 
obtained  at  little  cost,  went  on  a  foraging  expedi- 
tion whilst  his  host  applied  himself  to  a  proof 
which  needed  correcting. 

"I  suppose  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  have 
electric  light  here,"  Kara  asked. 

"Quite,"  replied  the  other. 

"Why*?" 

"I  rather  like  the  light  of  this  lamp." 

"It  isn't  the  lamp,"  drawled  the  Greek  and 
made  a  little  grimace ;  "I  hate  these  candles." 

He  waved  his  hand  to  the  mantle-shelf  where 
13 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  six  tall,  white,  waxen  candles  stood  out  from 
two  wall  sconces. 

"Why  on  earth  do  you  hate  candles?"  asked 
the  other  in  surprise, 

Kara  made  no  reply  for  the  moment,  but 
shrugged  his  shoulders.     Presently  he  spoke. 

"If  you  were  ever  tied  down  to  a  chair  and  by 
the  side  of  that  chair  was  a  small  keg  of  black 
powder  and  stuck  in  that  powder  was  a  small 
candle  that  burnt  lower  and  lower  every  minute 
—my  God!" 

John  was  amazed  to  see  the  perspiration  stand 
upon  the  forehead  of  his  guest. 

"That  sounds  thrilling,"  he  said. 

The  Greek  wiped  his  forehead  with  a  silk  hand- 
kerchief and  his  hand  shook  a  little. 

"It  was  something  more  than  tlirilling,"  he 
said. 

"And  when  did  this  occur?"  asked  the  author 
curiously. 

"In  Albania,"  replied  the  other;  "it  was  many 
years  ago,  but  the  devils  are  always  sending  me 
reminders  of  the  fact." 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  did  not  attempt  to  explain  who  the  devils 
were  or  under  what  circumstances  he  was  brought 
to  this  unhappy  pass,  but  changed  the  subject  defi- 
nitely. 

Sauntering  round  the  cosy  room  he  followed  the 
bookshelf  which  filled  one  wall  and  stopped  now 
and  again  to  examine  some  title.  Presently  he 
drew  forth  a  stout  volume. 

"  'Wild  Brazil,'  "  he  read,  "by  George  Gather- 
cole — do  you  know  Gathercole^" 

John  was  filling  his  pipe  from  a  big  blue  jar  on 
his  desk  and  nodded. 

"Met  him  once — a  taciturn  devil.  Very  short 
of  speech  and,  like  all  men  who  have  seen  and 
done  things,  less  inclined  to  talk  about  himself 
than  any  man  I  know." 

Kara  looked  at  the  book  with  a  thoughtful 
pucker  of  brow  and  turned  the  leaves  idly. 

"I've  never  seen  him,"  he  said  as  he  replaced 
the  book,  "yet,  in  a  sense,  his  new  journey  is  on 
my  behalf." 

The  other  man  looked  up. 

"On  your  behalf?" 

15 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Yes — you  know  he  has  gone  to  Patagonia  for 
me.  He  believes  there  is  gold  there — ^you  will 
learn  as  much  from  his  book  on  the  mountain 
systems  of  South  America.  I  was  interested  in 
his  theories  and  corresponded  with  him.  As  a 
result  of  that  correspondence  he  undertook  to 
make  a  geological  survey  for  me.  I  sent  him 
money  for  his  expenses,  and  he  went  off." 

"You  never  saw  him?"  asked  John  Lexman, 
surprised. 

Kara  shook  his  head. 

"That  was  not — "  began  his  host. 

"Not  like  me,  you  were  going  to  say. 
Frankly,  it  was  not,  but  then  I  realized  that  he 
was  an  unusual  kind  of  man.  I  invited  him  to 
dine  with  me  before  he  left  London,  and  in  reply 
received  a  wire  from  Southampton  intimating 
that  he  was  already  on  his  way." 

Lexman  nodded. 

"It  must  be  an  awfully  interesting  kind  of  life," 
he  said.  "I  suppose  he  will  be  away  for  quite  a 
long  time?" 

16 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Three  years,"  said  Kara,  continuing  his  exam- 
ination of  the  bookshelf. 

*T  envy  those  fellows  who  run  round  the  world 
writing  books,"  said  John,  puffing  reflectively  at 
his  pipe.     "They  have  all  the  best  of  it." 

Kara  turned.  He  stood  immediately  behind 
the  author  and  the  other  could  not  see  his  face. 
There  was,  however,  in  his  voice  an  unusual  earn- 
estness and  an  unusual  quiet  vehemence. 

"What  have  you  to  complain  about  ^"  he  asked, 
with  that  little  drawl  of  his.  "You  have  your 
own  creative  work — the  most  fascinating  branch 
of  labour  that  comes  to  a  man.  He,  poor  beggar, 
is  bound  to  actualities.  You  have  the  full  range 
of  all  the  worlds  which  your  imagination  gives  to 
you.  You  can  create  men  and  destroy  them, 
call  into  existence  fascinating  problems,  mystify 
and  baffle  ten  or  twenty  thousand  people,  and 
then,  at  a  word,  elucidate  your  mystery." 

John  laughed. 

"There  is  something  in  that,"  he  said. 

"As  for  the  rest  of  your  life,"  Kara  went  on  in 
17 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

a  lower  voice,  "I  think  you  have  that  which  makes 
life  worth  living — an  incomparable  wife." 

Lexman  swung  round  in  his  chair,  and  met  the 
other's  gaze,  and  there  was  something  in  the  set 
of  the  other's  handsome  face  which  took  his 
breath  away. 

"I  do  not  see — "  he  began. 

Kara  smiled. 

"That  was  an  impertinence,  wasn*t  it?"  he  said, 
banteringly.  "But  then  you  mustn't  forget,  my 
dear  man,  that  I  was  very  anxious  to  marry  your 
wife.  I  don't  suppose  it  is  secret.  And  when  I 
lost  her,  I  had  ideas  about  you  which  are  not 
pleasant  to  recall." 

He  had  recovered  his  self-possession  and  had 
continued  his  aimless  stroll  about  the  room. 

"You  must  remember  I  am  a  Greek,  and  the 
modern  Greek  is  no  philosopher.  You  must  re- 
member, too,  that  I  am  a  petted  child  of  fortune, 
and  have  had  everything  I  wanted  since  I  was  a 
baby." 

"You  are  a  fortunate  devil,"  said  the  other, 
turning  back  to  his  desk,  and  taking  up  his  pen. 

18 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

For  a  moment  Kara  did  not  speak,  then  he  made 
as  though  he  would  say  something,  checked  him- 
self, and  laughed. 

*T  wonder  if  I  am,"  he  said. 

And  now  he  spoke  with  a  sudden  energy. 

"What  is  this  trouble  you  are  having  with  Vas- 
salaro?' 

John  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  over  to 
the  fire,  stood  gazing  down  into  its  depths,  his  legs 
wide  apart,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  and 
Kara  took  his  attitude  to  supply  an  answer  to  the 
question. 

"I  warned  you  against  Vassalaro,"  he  said, 
stooping  by  the  other's  side  to  light  his  cigar  with 
a  spill  of  paper.  "My  dear  Lexman,  my  fellow 
countrymen  are  unpleasant  people  to  deal  with  in 
certain  moods." 

"He  was  so  obliging  at  first,"  said  Lexman, 
half  to  himself. 

"And  now  he  is  so  disobliging,"  drawled  Kara. 
"That  is  a  way  which  moneylenders  have,  my  dear 
man;  you  were  very  foolish  to  go  to  him  at  all. 
I  could  have  lent  you  the  money." 

19 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"There  were  reasons  why  I  should  not  borrow 
money  from  you,"  said  John,  quietly,  "and  I 
think  you  yourself  have  supplied  the  principal 
reason  when  you  told  me  just  now,  what  I  al- 
ready knew,  that  you  wanted  to  marry  Grace." 

"How  much  is  the  amount*?"  asked  Kara,  ex- 
amining his  well-manicured  finger-nails. 

"Two  thousand  five  hundred  pounds,"  replied 
John,  with  a  short  laugh,  "and  I  haven't  two 
thousand  five  hundred  shillings  at  this  moment." 

"Will  he  wait^" 

John  Lexman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Look  here,  Kara,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "don't 
think  I  want  to  reproach  you,  but  it  was  through 
you  that  I  met  Vassalaro  so  that  you  know  the 
kind  of  man  he  is." 

Kara  nodded. 

"Well,  I  can  tell  you  he  has  been  very  unpleas- 
ant indeed,"  said  John,  with  a  frown,  "I  had  an 
interview  with  him  yesterday  in  London  and  it  is 
clear  that  he  is  going  to  make  a  lot  of  trouble.  I 
depended  upon  the  success  of  my  play  in  town 
giving  me  enough  to  pay  him  off,  and  I  very  fool- 

»0 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ishly  made  a  lot  of  promises  of  repayment  which 
I  have  been  unable  to  keep." 

"I  see,"  said  Kara,  and  then,  "does  Mrs.  Lex- 
man  know  about  this  matter*?" 

"A  little,"  said  the  ether. 

He  paced  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room,  his 
hands  behind  him  and  his  chin  upon  his  chest. 

"Naturally  I  have  not  told  her  the  worst,  or 
how  beastly  unpleasant  the  man  has  been." 

He  stopped  and  turned. 

"Do  you  know  he  threatened  to  kill  me?"  he 
asked. 

Kara  smiled. 

"I  can  tell  you  it  was  no  laughing  matter,"  said 
the  other,  angrily,  "I  nearly  took  the  little  whip- 
per-snapper by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  and  kicked 
him," 

Kara  dropped  his  hand  on  the  other's  arm. 

*T  am  not  laughing  at  you,"  he  said;  *T  am 
laughing  at  the  thought  of  Vassalaro  threatening 
to  kill  anybody.  He  is  the  biggest  coward  in  the 
world.  What  on  earth  induced  him  to  take  this 
drastic  step?" 

21 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"He  said  he  is  being  hard  pushed  for  money," 
said  the  other,  moodily,  "and  it  is  possibly  true. 
He  was  beside  himself  with  anger  and  anxiety, 
otherwise  I  might  have  given  the  little  blackguard 
the  thrashing  he  deserved." 

Kara  who  had  continued  his  stroll  came  down 
the  room  and  halted  in  front  of  the  fireplace 
looking  at  the  young  author  with  a  paternal  smile. 

"You  don't  understand  Vassalaro,"  he  said;  "I 
repeat  he  is  the  greatest  coward  in  the  world. 
You  will  probably  discover  he  is  full  of  firearms 
and  threats  of  slaughter,  but  you  have  only  to 
click  a  revolver  to  see  him  collapse.  Have  you  a 
revolver,  by  the  way*?" 

"Oh,  nonsense,"  said  the  other,  roughly,  "I  can- 
not engage  myself  in  that  kind  of  melodrama." 

"It  is  not  nonsense,"  insisted  the  other,  "when 
you  are  in  Rome,  etcetera,  and  when  you  have  to 
deal  with  a  low-class  Greek  you  must  use  methods 
which  will  at  least  impress  him.  If  you  thrash 
him,  he  will  never  forgive  you  and  will  probably 
stick  a  knife  into  you  or  your  wife.     If  you  meet 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

his  melodrama  with  melodrama  and  at  the  psycho- 
logical moment  produce  your  revolver,  you  will 
secure  the  effect  you  require.  Have  you  a  re- 
volver'?" 

John  went  to  his  desk  and,  pulling  open  a 
drawer,  took  out  a  small  Browning. 

"That  is  the  extent  of  my  armory,"  he  said, 
"it  has  never  been  fired  and  was  sent  to  me  by  an 
unknown  admirer  last  Christmas." 

"A  curious  Christmas  present,"  said  the  other, 
examining  the  weapon. 

"I  suppose  the  mistaken  donor  imagined  from 
my  books  that  I  lived  in  a  veritable  museum  of 
revolvers,  sword  sticks  and  noxious  drugs,"  said 
Lexman,  recovering  some  of  his  good  humour;  "it 
was  accompanied  by  a  card." 

"Do  you  know  how  it  works  ^"  asked  the  other. 

"I  have  never  troubled  very  much  about  it," 
replied  Lexman,  "I  know  that  it  is  loaded  by  slip- 
ping back  the  cover,  but  as  my  admirer  did  not 
send  ammunition,  I  never  even  practised  with  it." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 
2S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"That  is  the  post,"  explained  John. 

The  maid  had  one  letter  on  the  salver  and  the 
author  took  it  up  with  a  frown. 

"From  Vassalaro,"  he  said,  when  the  girl  had 
left  the  room. 

The  Greek  took  the  letter  in  his  hand  and  ex- 
amined it. 

"He  writes  a  vile  fist,"  was  his  only  comment 
as  he  handed  it  back  to  John. 

He  slit  open  the  thin,  buff  envelope  and  took 
out  half  a  dozen  sheets  of  yellow  paper,  only  a  sin- 
gle sheet  of  which  was  written  upon.  The  letter 
was  brief : 

"I  must  see  you  to-night  without  fail,"  ran  the  scrawl ; 
"meet  me  at  the  crossroads  between  Beston  Tracey  and 
the  Eastbourne  Road.  I  shall  be  there  at  eleven  o'clock, 
and,  if  you  want  to  preserve  your  life,  you  had  better 
bring  me  a  substantial  instalment." 

It  was  signed  "Vassalaro.*' 

John  read  the  letter  aloud.  "He  must  be  mad 
to  write  a  letter  like  that,"  he  said;  "I'll  meet  the 
little  devil  and  teach  him  such  a  lesson  in  polite- 
ness as  he  is  never  likely  to  forget." 

M 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  handed  the  letter  to  the  other  and  Kara 
read  it  in  silence. 

"Better  take  your  revolver,"  he  said  as  he 
handed  it  back. 

John  Lexman  looked  at  his  watch. 

"I  have  an  hour  yet,  but  it  will  take  me  the  best 
part  of  twenty  minutes  to  reach  the  Eastbourne 
Road." 

"Will  you  see  him*?"  asked  Kara,  in  a  tone  of 
surprise. 

"Certainly,"  Lexman  replied  emphatically. 
"I  cannot  have  him  coming  up  to  the  house  and 
making  a  scene  and  that  is  certainly  what  the 
little  beast  will  do." 

"Will  you  pay  him*?"  asked  Kara  softly. 

John  made  no  answer.  There  was  probably 
£10  in  the  house  and  a  cheque  which  was  due  on 
the  morrow  would  bring  him  another  £30.  He 
looked  at  the  letter  again.  It  was  written  on 
paper  of  an  unusual  texture.  The  surface  was 
rough  almost  like  blotting  paper  and  in  some 
places  the  ink  absorbed  by  the  porous  surface  had 
run.     The  blank  sheets  had  evidently  been  in- 

25 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

serted  by  a  man  in  so  violent  a  hurry  that  he  had 
not  noticed  the  extravagance. 

"I  shall  keep  this  letter,"  said  John. 

"I  think  you  are  well  advised.  Vassalaro  prob- 
ably does  not  know  that  he  transgresses  a  law  in 
writing  threatening  letters  and  that  should  be  a 
very  strong  weapon  in  your  hand  in  certain  event- 
ualities." 

There  was  a  tiny  safe  in  one  corner  of  the  study 
and  this  John  opened  with  a  key  which  he  took 
from  his  pocket.  He  pulled  open  one  of  the 
steel  drawers,  took  out  the  papers  which  were  irt 
it  and  put  in  their  place  the  letter,  pushed  the 
drawer  to,  and  locked  it. 

All  the  time  Kara  was  watching  him  intently 
as  one  who  found  more  than  an  ordinary  amount 
of  interest  in  the  novelty  of  the  procedure. 

He  took  his  leave  soon  afterwards. 

"I  would  like  to  come  with  you  to  your  inter- 
esting meeting,"  he  said,  "but  unfortunately  I 
have  business  elsewhere.  Let  me  enjoin  you  to 
take  your  revolver  and  at  the  first  sign  of  any 
bloodthirsty  intention  on  the  part  of  my  admir- 

£6 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

able  compatriot,  produce  it  and  click  it  once  or 
twice,  you  won't  have  to  do  more." 

Grace  rose  from  the  piano  as  Kara  entered  the 
little  drawing-room  and  murmured  a  few  conven- 
tional expressions  of  regret  that  the  visitor's  stay 
had  been  so  short.  That  there  was  no  sincerity  in 
that  regret  Kara,  for  one,  had  no  doubt.  He  was 
a  man  singularly  free  from  illusions. 

They  stayed  talking  a  little  while. 

"I  will  see  if  your  chauffeur  is  asleep,"  said 
John,  and  went  out  of  the  room. 

There  was  a  little  silence  after  he  had  gone. 

"I  don't  think  you  are  very  glad  to  see  me," 
said  Kara.  His  frankness  was  a  little  embar- 
rassing to  the  girl  and  she  flushed  slightly. 

"I  am  always  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Kara,  or  any 
other  of  my  husband's  friends,"  she  said  steadily. 

He  inclined  his  head. 

"To  be  a  friend  of  your  husband  is  something," 
he  said,  and  then  as  if  remembering  something,  "I 
wanted  to  take  a  book  away  with  me — I  wonder  if 
your  husband  would  mind  my  getting  it?" 

*T  will  find  it  for  you." 

n 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Don't  let  me  bother  you,"  he  protested,  "I 
know  my  way." 

Without  waiting  for  her  permission  he  left  the 
girl  with  the  unpleasant  feeling  that  he  was  tak- 
ing rather  much  for  granted.  He  was  gone  less 
than  a  minute  and  returned  with  a  book  under  his 
arm. 

"I  have  not  asked  Lexman's  permission  to  take 
it,"  he  said,  "but  I  am  rather  interested  in  the 
author.  Oh,  here  you  are,"  he  turned  to  John 
who  came  in  at  that  moment.  "Might  I  take  this 
book  on  Mexico*?"  he  asked.  "I  will  return  it  in 
the  morning." 

They  stood  at  the  door,  watching  the  tail  light 
of  the  motor  disappear  down  the  drive,  and  re- 
turned in  silence  to  the  drawing  room. 

"You  look  worried,  dear,"  she  said,  laying  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 

He  smiled  faintly. 

"Is  it  the  money?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

For  a  moment  he  was  tempted  to  tell  her  of  the 
letter.     He  stifled  the  temptation  realizing  that 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

she  would  not  consent  to  his  going  out  if  she  knew 
the  truth. 

"It  is  nothing  very  much,"  he  said.  "I  have 
to  go  down  to  Beston  Tracey  to  meet  the  last 
train.     I  am  expecting  some  proofs  down." 

He  hated  lying  to  her,  and  even  an  innocuous 
lie  of  this  character  was  repugnant  to  him. 

"I'm  afraid  you  have  had  a  dull  evening,"  he 
said,  "Kara  was  not  very  amusing." 

She  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"He  has  not  changed  very  much,"  she  said 
slowly. 

"He's  a  wonderfully  handsome  chap,  isn't 
he?"  he  asked  in  a  tone  of  admiration.  "I  can't 
understand  what  you  ever  saw  in  a  fellow  like  me, 
when  you  had  a  man  who  was  not  only  rich,  but 
possibly  the  best-looking  man  in  the  world." 

She  shivered  a  little. 

"I  have  seen  a  side  of  Mr.  Kara  that  is  not  par- 
ticularly beautiful,"  she  said.  "Oh,  John,  I  am 
afraid  of  that  man !" 

He  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 
29 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Afraid^"  he  asked.  "Good  heavens,  Grace, 
what  a  thing  to  say !  Why  I  believe  he'd  do  any- 
thing for  you." 

'That  is  exactly  what  I  am  afraid  of,"  she  said 
in  a  low  voice. 

She  had  a  reason  which  she  did  not  reveal. 
She  had  first  met  Remington  Kara  in  Salonika  two 
years  before.  She  had  been  doing  a  tour  through 
the  Balkans  with  her  father — it  was  the  last  tour 
the  famous  archaeologist  made — and  had  met  the 
man  who  was  fated  to  have  such  an  influence  upon 
her  life  at  a  dinner  given  by  the  American  Consul. 

Many  were  the  stories  which  were  told  about 
this  Greek  with  his  Jove-like  face,  his  handsome 
carriage  and  his  limitless  wealth.  It  was  said 
that  his  mother  was  an  American  lady  who  had 
been  captured  by  Albanian  brigands  and  was  sold 
to  one  of  the  Albanian  chiefs  who  fell  in  love 
with  her,  and  for  her  sake  became  a  Protestant. 
He  had  been  educated  at  Yale  and  at  Oxford,  and 
was  known  to  be  the  possessor  of  vast  wealth,  and 
was  virtually  king  of  a  hill  district  forty  miles  out 
of  Durazzo.     Here  he  reigned  supreme,  occupy- 

30 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ing  a  beautiful  house  which  he  had  built  by  an 
Italian  architect,  and  the  fittings  and  appoint- 
ments of  which  had  been  imported  from  the  luxu- 
rious centres  of  the  world. 

In  Albania  they  called  him  "Kara  Rumo," 
which  meant  "The  Black  Roman,"  for  no  par- 
ticular reason  so  far  as  any  one  could  judge,  for 
his  skin  was  as  fair  as  a  Saxon's,  and  his  close- 
cropped  curls  were  almost  golden. 

He  had  fallen  in  love  with  Grace  Terrell.  At 
first  his  attentions  had  amused  her,  and  then  there 
came  a  time  when  they  frightened  her,  for  the 
man's  fire  and  passion  had  been  unmistakable. 
She  had  made  it  plain  to  him  that  he  could  base 
no  hopes  upon  her  returning  his  love,  and,  in  a 
scene  which  she  even  now  shuddered  to  recall,  he 
had  revealed  something  of  his  wild  and  reckless 
nature.  On  the  following  day  she  did  not  see 
him,  but  two  days  later,  when  returning  through 
the  Bazaar  from  a  dance  which  had  been  given  by 
the  Governor  General,  her  carriage  was  stopped, 
she  was  forcibly  dragged  from  its  interior,  and 
her  cries  were  stifled  with  a  cloth  impregnated 

31 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

with  a  scent  of  a  peculiar  aromatic  sweetness. 
Her  assailants  were  about  to  thrust  her  into  an- 
other carriage,  when  a  party  of  British  bluejackets 
who  had  been  on  leave  came  upon  the  scene,  and, 
without  knowing  anything  of  the  nationality  of 
the  girl,  had  rescued  her. 

In  her  heart  of  hearts  she  did  not  doubt  Kara's 
complicity  in  this  medieval  attempt  to  gain  a 
wife,  but  of  this  adventure  she  had  told  her  hus- 
band nothing.  Until  her  marriage  she  was  con- 
stantly receiving  valuable  presents  which  she  as 
constantly  returned  to  the  only  address  she 
knew — Kara's  estate  at  Lemazo.  A  few  months 
after  her  marriage  she  had  learned  through  the 
newspapers  that  this  "leader  of  Greek  society" 
had  purchased  a  big  house  near  Cadogan  Square, 
and  then,  to  her  amazement  and  to  her  dismay, 
Kara  had  scraped  an  acquaintance  with  her  hus- 
band even  before  the  honeymoon  was  over. 

His  visits  had  been  happily  few,  but  the  grow- 
ing intimacy  between  John  and  this  strange  un- 
disciplined man  had  been  a  source  of  constant  dis- 
tress to  her. 

3^ 


THE  QUm  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Should  she,  at  this,  the  eleventh  hour,  tell  her 
husband  all  her  fears  and  her  suspicions? 

She  debated  the  point  for  some  time.  And 
never  was  she  nearer  taking  him  into  her  complete 
confidence  than  she  was  as  he  sat  in  the  big  arm- 
chair by  the  side  of  the  piano,  a  little  drawn  of 
face,  more  than  a  little  absorbed  in  his  own  medi- 
tations. Had  he  been  less  worried  she  might 
have  spoken.  As  it  was,  she  turned  the  conversa- 
tion to  his  last  work,  the  big  mystery  story  which, 
if  it  would  not  make  his  fortune,  would  mean  a 
considerable  increase  to  his  income. 

At  a  quarter  to  eleven  he  looked  at  his  watch, 
and  rose.  She  helped  him  on  with  his  coat.  He 
stood  for  some  time  irresolutely. 

"Is  there  anything  you  have  forgotten*?"  she 
asked. 

He  asked  himself  whether  he  should  follow 
Kara's  advice.  In  any  circumstance  it  was  not  a 
pleasant  thing  to  meet  a  ferocious  little  man  who 
had  threatened  his  life,  and  to  meet  him  unarmed 
was  tempting  Providence.  The  whole  thing  was 
of  course  ridiculous,  but  it  was  ridiculous  that  he 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

should  have  borrowed,  and  it  was  ridiculous  that 
the  borrowing  should  have  been  necessary,  and  yet 
he  had  speculated  on  the  best  of  advice — it  was 
Kara's  advice ! 

The  connection  suddenly  occurred  to  him,  and 
yet  Kara  had  not  directly  suggested  that  he  should 
buy  Roumanian  gold  shares,  but  had  merely 
spoken  glowingly  of  their  prospects.  He  thought 
a  moment,  and  then  walked  back  slowly  into  the 
study,  pulled  open  the  drawer  of  his  desk,  took  out 
the  sinister  little  Browning,  and  slipped  it  into  his 
pocket. 

*T  shan't  be  long,  dear,"  he  said,  and  kissing  the 
girl  he  strode  out  into  the  darkness. 

Kara  sat  back  in  the  luxurious  depths  of  his 
car,  humming  a  little  tune,  as  the  driver  picked 
his  way  cautiously  over  the  uncertain  road.  The 
rain  was  still  falling,  and  Kara  had  to  rub  the 
windows  free  of  the  mist  which  had  gathered  on 
them  to  discover  where  he  was.  From  time  to 
time  he  looked  out  as  though  he  expected  to  see 
somebody,  and  then  with  a  little  smile  he  remem- 

S4 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

bered  that  he  had  changed  his  original  plan,  and 
that  he  had  fixed  the  waiting  room  of  Lewes  junc- 
tion as  his  rendezvous. 

Here  it  was  that  he  found  a  little  man  muffled 
up  to  the  ears  in  a  big  top  coat,  standing  before 
the  dying  fire.  He  started  as  Kara  entered  and  at 
a  signal  followed  him  from  the  room. 

The  stranger  was  obviously  not  English.  His 
face  was  sallow  and  peaked,  his  cheeks  were  hol- 
low, and  the  beard  he  wore  was  irregular — almost 
unkempt. 

Kara  led  the  way  to  the  end  of  the  dark  plat- 
form, before  he  spoke. 

"You  have  carried  out  my  instructions?"  he 
asked  brusquely. 

The  language  he  spoke  was  Arabic,-  and  the 
other  answered  him  in  that  language. 

"Everything  that  you  have  ordered  has  been 
done,  Effendi,"  he  said  humbly. 

"You  have  a  revolver?" 

The  man  nodded  and  patted  his  pocket. 

"Loaded?" 

"Excellency,"  asked  the  other,  in  surprise, 
35 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"what  is  the  use  of  a  revolver,  if  it  is  not  loaded^" 

"You  understand,  you  are  not  to  shoot  this 
man,"  said  Kara.  "You  are  merely  to  present 
the  pistol.  To  make  sure,  you  had  better  unload 
it  now." 

Wonderingly  the  man  obeyed,  and  clicked  back 
the  ejector. 

"I  will  take  the  cartridges,"  said  Kara,  holding 
out  his  hand. 

He  slipped  the  little  cylinders  into  his  pocket, 
and  after  examining  the  weapon  returned  it  to  its 
owner. 

"You  will  threaten  him,"  he  went  on.  "Pre- 
sent the  revolver  straight  at  his  heart.  You  need 
do  nothing  else." 

The  man  shuffled  uneasily. 

"I  will  do  as  you  say,  Effendi,"  he  said. 
"But—" 

"There  are  no  'buts,'  "  replied  the  other  harshly. 
"You  are  to  carry  out  my  instructions  without 
any  question.  What  will  happen  then  you  shall 
see.  I  shall  be  at  hand.  That  I  have  a  reason 
for  this  play  be  assured." 

S6 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"But  suppose  he  shoots^"  persisted  the  other 
uneasily. 

"He  will  not  shoot,"  said  Kara  easily.  "Be- 
sides, his  revolver  is  not  loaded.  Now  you  may 
go.  You  have  a  long  walk  before  you.  You 
know  the  way*?" 

The  man  nodded. 

"I  have  been  over  it  before,"  he  said  confi- 
dently. 

Kara  returned  to  the  big  limousine  which  had 
drawn  up  some  distance  from  the  station.  He 
spoke  a  word  or  two  to  the  chauffeur  in  Greek, 
and  the  man  touched  his  hat. 


87 


CHAPTER  II 

Assistant  Commissioner  of  Police  T.  X.  Mere- 
dith did  not  occupy  offices  in  New  Scotland  Yard. 
It  is  the  peculiarity  of  public  offices  that  they  are 
planned  with  the  idea  of  supplying  the  margin  of 
space  above  all  requirements  and  that  on  their 
completion  they  are  found  wholly  inadequate  to 
house  the  various  departments  which  mysteriously 
come  into  progress  coincident  with  the  building 
operations. 

*'T.  X.,"  as  he  was  known  by  the  police  forces 
of  the  world,  had  a  big  suite  of  offices  in  White- 
hall. The  house  was  an  old  one  facing  the  Board 
of  Trade  and  the  inscription  on  the  ancient  door 
told  passers-by  that  this  was  the  "Public  Prose- 
cutor, Special  Branch." 

The  duties  of  T.  X.  were  multifarious.  Peo- 
ple said  of  him — and  like  most  public  gossip,  this 
was  probably  untrue — that  he  was  the  head  of  the 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"illegal"  department  of  Scotland  Yard.  If  by 
chance  you  lost  the  keys  of  your  safe,  T.  X.  could 
supply  you  (so  popular  rumour  ran)  with  a  bur- 
glar who  would  open  that  safe  in  half  an  hour. 

If  there  dwelt  in  England  a  notorious  indi- 
vidual against  whom  the  police  could  collect  no 
scintilla  of  evidence  to  justify  a  prosecution,  and 
if  it  was  necessary  for  the  good  of  the  community 
that  that  person  should  be  deported,  it  was  T.  X. 
who  arrested  the  obnoxious  person,  hustled  him 
into  a  cab  and  did  not  loose  his  hold  upon  his 
victim  until  he  had  landed  him  on  the  indignant 
shores  of  an  otherwise  friendly  power. 

It  is  very  certain  that  when  the  minister  of  a 
tiny  power  which  shall  be  nameless  was  suddenly 
recalled  by  his  government  and  brought  to  trial  in' 
his  native  land  for  putting  into  circulation  spuri- 
ous bonds,  it  was  somebody  from  the  department 
which  T.  X.  controlled,  who  burgled  His  Excel- 
lency's house,  burnt  the  locks  from  his  safe  and 
secured  the  necessary  incriminating  evidence. 

I  say  it  is  fairly  certain  and  here  I  am  merely 
voicing  the  opinion  of  very  knowledgeable  people 

39 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

indeed,  heads  of  public  departments  who  speak 
behind  their  hands,  mysterious  under-secretaries 
of  state  who  discuss  things  in  whispers  in  the  re- 
mote comers  of  their  clubrooms  and  the  more 
frank  views  of  American  correspondents  who  had 
no  hesitation  in  putting  those  views  into  print  for 
the  benefit  of  their  readers. 

That  T.  X.  had  a  more  legitimate  occupation 
we  know,  for  it  was  that  flippant  man  whose  out- 
rageous comment  on  the  Home  Office  Administra- 
tion is  popularly  supposed  to  have  sent  one  Home 
Secretary  to  his  grave,  who  traced  the  Deptford 
murderers  through  a  labyrinth  of  perjury  and  who 
brought  to  book  Sir  Julius  Waglite  though  he  had 
covered  his  trail  of  defalcation  through  the  bal- 
ance sheets  of  thirty-four  companies. 

On  the  night  of  March  3rd,  T.  X.  sat  in  his 
inner  office  interviewing  a  disconsolate  inspector 
of  metropolitan  police,  named  Mansus. 

In  appearance  T.  X.  conveyed  the  impression 
of  extreme  youth,  for  his  face  was  almost  boyish 
and  it  was  only  when  you  looked  at  him  closely 
and  saw  the  little  creases  about  his  eyes,  die  set 

40 


THE  CLUE  OP  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

line  of  his  straight  mouth,  that  you  guessed  he 
was  on  the  way  to  forty.  In  his  early  days  he  had 
been  something  of  a  poet,  and  had  written  a  slight 
volume  of  "Woodland  Lyrics,"  the  mention  of 
which  at  this  later  stage  was  sufficient  to  make  him 
feel  violently  unhappy. 

In  manner  he  was  tactful  but  persistent,  his 
language  was  at  times  marked  by  a  violent  extrav- 
agance and  he  had  had  the  distinction  of  having 
provoked,  by  certain  correspondence  which  had 
seen  the  light,  the  comment  of  a  former  Home 
Secretary  that  "it  was  unfortunate  that  Mr.  Mer- 
edith did  not  take  his  position  with  the  seriousness 
which  was  expected  from  a  public  official." 

His  language  was,  as  I  say,  under  great  provo- 
cation, violent  and  unusual.  He  had  a  trick  of 
using  words  which  never  were  on  land  or  sea,  and 
illustrating  his  instruction  or  his  admonition  with 
the  quaintest  phraseology. 

Now  he  was  tilted  back  in  his  office  chair  at  an 
alarming  angle,  scowling  at  his  distressed  subor- 
dinate who  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  at  the  other 
side  of  his  desk. 

41 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"But,  T.  X.,"  protested  the  Inspector,  "there 
was  nothing  to  be  found." 

It  was  the  outrageous  practice  of  Mr.  Meredith 
to  insist  upon  his  associates  calling  him  by  his 
initials,  a  practice  which  had  earnt  disapproval  in 
the  highest  quarters. 

"Nothing  is  to  be  found!"  he  repeated  wrath- 
fuUy.     "Curious  Mike  I" 

He  sat  up  with  a  suddenness  which  caused  the 
police  officer  to  start  back  in  alarm. 

"Listen,"  said  T.  X,,  grasping  an  ivory  paper- 
knife  savagely  in  his  hand  and  tapping  his  blot- 
ting-pad to  emphasize  his  words,  "you're  a  pie!" 

"I'm  a  policeman,"  said  the  other  patiently. 

"A  policeman!"  exclaimed  the  exasperated  T. 
X.  "You're  worse  than  a  pie,  you're  a  slud! 
I'm  afraid  I  shall  never  make  a  detective  of  you," 
he  shook  his  head  sorrowfully  at  the  smiling  Man- 
sus  who  had  been  in  the  police  force  when  T.  X. 
was  a  small  boy  at  school,  "you  are  neither  Wise 
nor  Wily;  you  combine  the  innocence  of  a  Baby 
with  the  Gubbiness  of  a  County  Parson — ^you 
ought  to  be  in  the  choir." 

4& 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

At  this  outrageous  insult  Mr.  Mansus  was  si- 
lent; what  he  might  have  said,  or  what  further 
provocation  he  might  have  received  may  be  never 
known,  for  at  that  moment,  the  Chief  himself 
walked  in. 

The  Chief  of  the  Police  in  these  days  was  a 
grey  man,  rather  tired,  with  a  hawk  nose  and  deep 
eyes  that  glared  under  shaggy  eyebrows  and  he 
was  a  terror  to  all  men  of  his  department  save  to 
T.  X.  who  respected  nothing  on  earth  and  very 
little  elsewhere.     He  nodded  curtly  to  Mansus. 

"Well,  T.  X.,"  he  said,  "what  have  you  dis- 
covered about  our  friend  Kara'?" 

He  turned  from  T.  X.  to  the  discomforted  in- 
spector. 

"Very  little,"  said  T.  X.  "I've  had  Mansus 
on  the  job." 

"And  you've  found  nothing,  eh'?"  growled  the 
Chief. 

"He  has  found  all  that  it  is  possible  to  find," 
said  T.  X.  "We  do  not  perform  miracles  in  this 
department.  Sir  George,  nor  can  we  pick  up  the 
threads  of  a  case  at  five  minutes'  notice." 

43 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Sir  George  Haley  grunted. 

"Mansus  has  done  his  best,"  the  other  went  on 
easily,  "but  it  is  rather  absurd  to  talk  about  one's 
best  when  you  know  so  little  of  what  you  want." 

Sir  George  dropped  heavily  into  the  arm-chair, 
and  stretched  out  his  long  thin  legs. 

"What  I  want,"  he  said,  looking  up  at  the  ceil- 
ing and  putting  his  hands  together,  "is  to  discover 
something  about  one  Remington  Kara,  a  wealthy 
Greek  who  has  taken  a  house  in  Cadogan  Square, 
who  has  no  particular  position  in  London  society 
and  therefore  has  no  reason  for  coming  here,  who 
openly  expresses  his  detestation  of  the  climate, 
who  has  a  magnificent  estate  in  some  wild  place 
in  the  Balkans,  who  is  an  excellent  horseman,  a 
magnificent  shot  and  a  passable  aviator." 

T.  X.  nodded  to  Mansus  and  with  something 
of  gratitude  in  his  eyes  the  inspector  took  his 
leave. 

"Now  Mansus  has  departed,"  said  T.  X.,  sit- 
ting himself  on  the  edge  of  his  desk  and  selecting 
with  great  care  a  cigarette  from  the  case  he  took 
from  his  pocket,  "let  me  know  something  of  the 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

reason  for  this  sudden  interest  in  the  great  ones 
of  the  earth." 

Sir  George  smiled  grimly. 

"I  have  the  interest  which  is  the  interest  of  my 
department,"  he  said.  "That  is  to  say  I  want  to 
know  a  great  deal  about  abnormal  people.  We 
have  had  an  application  from  him,"  he  went  on, 
"which  is  rather  unusual.  Apparently  he  is  in 
fear  of  his  life  from  some  cause  or  other  and  wants 
to  know  if  he  can  have  a  private  telephone  con- 
nection between  his  house  and  the  central  office. 
We  told  him  that  he  could  always  get  the  nearest 
Police  Station  on  the  'phone,  but  that  doesn't  sat- 
isfy him.  He  has  made  bad  friends  with  some 
gentleman  of  his  own  country  who  sooner  or  later, 
he  thinks,  will  cut  his  throat." 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"All  this  I  know,"  he  said  patiently,  "if  you 
will  further  unfold  the  secret  dossier.  Sir  George, 
I  am  prepared  to  be  thrilled." 

"There  is  nothing  thrilling  about  it,"  growled 
the  older  man,  rising,  "but  I  remember  the  Mace- 
donian shooting  case  in  South  London   and  I 

45 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

don't  want  a  repetition  of  that  sort  of  thing.  If 
people  want  to  have  blood  feuds,  let  them  take 
them  outside  the  metropolitan  area." 

"By  all  means,"  said  T.  X.,  "let  them.  Per- 
sonally, I  don't  care  where  they  go.  But  if  that 
is  the  extent  of  your  information  I  can  supplement 
it.  He  has  had  extensive  alterations  made  to  the 
house  he  bought  in  Cadogan  Square;  the  room  in 
which  he  lives  is  practically  a  safe." 

Sir  George  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"A  safe,"  he  repeated. 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"A  safe,"  he  said;  "its  walls  are  burglar  proof, 
floor  and  roof  are  reinforced  concrete,  there  is  one 
door  which  in  addition  to  its  ordinary  lock  is 
closed  by  a  sort  of  steel  latch  which  he  lets  fall 
when  he  retires  for  the  night  and  which  he  opens 
himself  personally  in  the  morning.  The  window 
is  unreachable,  there  are  no  communicating  doors, 
and  altogether  the  room  is  planned  to  stand  a 
siege." 

The  Chief  Commissioner  was  interested. 

"Any  more?"  he  asked. 
46 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Let  me  think,"  said  T.  X.,  looking  up  at  the 
ceiling.  "Yes,  the  interior  of  his  room  is  plainly 
furnished,  there  is  a  big  fireplace,  rather  an  ornate 
bed,  a  steel  safe  built  into  the  wall  and  visible 
from  its  outer  side  to  the  policeman  whose  beat 
is  in  that  neighborhood." 

"How  do  you  know  all  this*?"  asked  the  Chief 
Commissioner. 

"Because  I've  been  in  the  room,"  said  T.  X. 
simply,  "having  by  an  underhand  trick  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  the  misplaced  confidence  of 
Kara's  housekeeper,  who  by  the  way" — ^he  turned 
round  to  his  desk  and  scribbled  a  name  on  the 
blotting-pad — "will  be  discharged  to-morrow  and 
must  be  found  a  place." 

"Is  there  any — er^"  began  the  Chief, 

"Funny  business*?"  interrupted  T.  X.,  "not  a 
bit.  House  and  man  are  quite  normal  save  for 
these  eccentricities.  He  has  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  spending  three  months  of  the  year  in  Eng- 
land and  nine  months  abroad.  He  is  very  rich, 
has  no  relations,  and  has  a  passion  for  power." 

"Then  he'll  be  hung,"  said  the  Chief,  rising. 
47 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  the  other,  "people  with  lots 
of  money  seldom  get  hung.  You  only  get  hung 
for  wanting  money." 

"Then  you're  in  some  danger,  T.  X.,"  smiled 
the  Chief,  "for  according  to  my  account  you're  al- 
ways more  or  less  broke." 

"A  genial  libel,"  said  T.  X.,  "but  talking  about 
people  being  broke,  I  saw  John  Lexman  to-day — 
you  know  him*?" 

The  Chief  Commissioner  nodded. 

"I've  an  idea  he's  rather  hit  for  money.  He 
was  in  that  Roumanian  gold  swindle,  and  by  his 
general  gloom,  which  only  comes  to  a  man  when 
he's  in  love  (and  he  can't  possibly  be  in  love 
since  he's  married)  or  when  he's  in  debt,  I  fear 
that  he  is  still  feeling  the  effect  of  that  rosy  ad- 
venture." 

A  telephone  bell  in  the  corner  of  the  room  rang 
sharply,  and  T.  X.  picked  up  the  receiver.  He 
listened  intently. 

"A  trunk  call,"  he  said  over  his  shoulder  to  the 
departing  commissioner,  "it  may  be  something  in- 
teresting." 

48 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

A  little  pause ;  then  a  hoarse  voice  spoke  to  him. 

"Is  that  you,  T.  X.T 

"That's  me,"  said  the  Assistant  Commissioner, 
commonly. 

"It's  John  Lexman  speaking." 

"I  shouldn't  have  recognized  your  voice,"  said 
T.  X.,  "what  is  wrong  with  you,  John,  can't  you 
get  your  plot  to  went*?" 

"I  want  you  to  come  down  here  at  once,"  said 
the  voice  urgently,  and  even  over  the  telephone  T. 
X.  recognized  the  distress.  "I  have  shot  a  man, 
killed  him  I" 

T.  X.  gasped. 

"Good  Lord,"  he  said,  "you  are  a  silly  ass !" 


49 


CHAPTER  III 

In  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  a  tragic  little 
party  was  assembled  in  the  study  at  Beston  Priory. 
John  Lexman,  white  and  haggard,  sat  on  the  sofa 
with  his  wife  by  his  side.  Immediate  authority 
as  represented  by  a  village  constable  was  on  duty 
in  the  passage  outside,  whilst  T.  X.  sitting  at  the 
table  with  a  writing  pad  and  a  pencil  was  briefly 
noting  the  evidence. 

The  author  had  sketched  the  events  of  the  day. 
He  had  described  his  interview  with  the  money- 
lender the  day  before  and  the  arrival  of  the  letter. 

"You  have  the  letter?"  asked  T.  X. 

John  Lexman  nodded. 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  other  with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  "that  will  save  you  from  a  great  deal  of 
unpleasantness,  my  poor  old  chap.  Tell  me  what 
happened  afterward." 

'T  reached  the  village,"  said  John  Lexman, 
"and    passed    through    it.     There    was    nobody 

60 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

about,  the  rain  was  still  falling  very  heavily  and 
indeed  I  didn't  meet  a  single  soul  all  the  evening. 
I  reached  the  place  appointed  about  five  minutes 
before  time.  It  was  the  corner  of  Eastbourne 
Road  on  the  station  side  and  there  I  found  Vassa- 
laro  waiting.  I  was  rather  ashamed  of  myself  at 
meeting  him  at  all  under  these  conditions,  but  I 
was  very  keen  on  his  not  coming  to  the  house  for 
I  was  afraid  it  would  upset  Grace.  What  made 
it  all  the  more  ridiculous  was  this  infernal  pistol 
which  was  in  my  pocket  banging  against  my  side 
with  every  step  I  took  as  though  to  nudge  me  to 
an  understanding  of  my  folly." 

"Where  did  you  meet  Vassalaro?"  asked  T.  X. 

"He  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  Eastbourne 
Road  and  crossed  the  road  to  meet  me.  At  first  he 
was  very  pleasant  though  a  little  agitated  but 
afterward  he  began  to  behave  in  a  most  extraor- 
dinary manner  as  though  he  was  lashing  himself 
up  into  a  fury  which  he  didn't  feel.  I  promised 
him  a  substantial  amount  on  account,  but  he  grew 
worse  and  worse  and  then,  suddenly,  before  I 
realised  what  he  was  doing,  he  was  brandishing  a 

61 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

revolver  in  my  face  and  uttering  the  most  ex- 
traordinary threats.  Then  it  was  I  remembered 
Kara's  warning." 

"Kara,"  said  T.  X.  quickly. 

"A  man  I  know  and  who  was  responsible  for 
introducing  me  to  Vassalaro.  He  is  immensely 
wealthy." 

"I  see,"  said  T.  X.,  "go  on." 

"I  remembered  this  warning,"  the  other  pro- 
ceeded, "and  I  thought  it  worth  while  trying  it  out 
to  see  if  it  had  any  effect  upon  the  little  man.  I 
pulled  the  pistol  from  my  pocket  and  pointed  it 
at  him,  but  that  only  seemed  to  make  it — and  then 
I  pressed  the  trigger.  .  .  . 

"To  my  horror  four  shots  exploded  before  I 
could  recover  sufficient  self-possession  to  loosen 
my  hold  of  the  butt.  He  fell  without  a  word.  I 
dropped  the  revolver  and  knelt  by  his  side.  I 
could  tell  he  was  dangerously  wounded,  and  in- 
deed I  knew  at  that  moment  that  nothing  would 
save  him.  My  pistol  had  been  pointed  in  the 
region  of  his  heart.  .  .  ." 

He  shuddered,  dropping  his  face  in  his  hands, 
5ft 


THE'  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

and  the  girl  by  his  side,  encircling  his  shoulder 
widi  a  protecting  arm,  murmured  something  in  his 
ear.     Presently  he  recovered. 

"He  wasn't  quite  dead.  I  heard  him  murmur 
something  but  I  wasn't  able  to  distinguish  what  he 
said.  I  went  straight  to  the  village  and  told  the 
constable  and  had  the  body  removed." 

T.  X.  rose  from  the  table  and  walked  to  the 
door  and  opened  it. 

"Come  in,  constable,"  he  said,  and  when  the 
man  made  his  appearance,  "I  suppose  you  were 
very  careful  in  removing  this  body,  and  you  took 
everything  which  was  lying  about  in  the  immedi- 
ate vicinity^" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  man,  "I  took  his  hat  and 
his  walkingstick,  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"And  the  revolver?"  asked  T.  X. 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"There  wam't  any  revolver,  sir,  except  the  pis- 
tol which  Mr.  Lexman  had." 

He  fumbled  in  his  pocket  and  pulled  it  out  gin- 
gerly, and  T.  X.  took  it  from  him. 

"I'll  look  after  your  prisoner;  you  go  down  to 
53 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  village,  get  any  help  you  can  and  make  a  most 
careful  search  in  the  place  where  this  man  was 
killed  and  bring  me  the  revolver  which  you  will 
discover.  You'll  probably  find  it  in  a  ditch  by 
the  side  of  the  road.  I'll  give  a  sovereign  to  the 
man  who  finds  it." 

The  constable  touched  his  hat  and  went  out. 

"It  looks  rather  a  weird  case  to  me,"  said  T.  X., 
as  he  came  back  to  the  table,  "can't  you  see  the 
unusual  features  yourself,  Lexman?  It  isn't  un- 
usual for  you  to  owe  money  and  it  isn't  unusual 
for  the  usurer  to  demand  the  return  of  that  money, 
but  in  this  case  he  is  asking  for  it  before  it  was 
due,  and  further  than  that  he  was  demanding  it 
with  threats.  It  is  not  the  practice  of  the  average 
money  lender  to  go  after  his  clients  with  a  loaded 
revolver.  Another  peculiar  thing  is  that  if  he 
wished  to  blackmail  you,  that  is  to  say,  bring  you 
into  contempt  in  the  eyes  of  your  friends,  why  did 
he  choose  to  meet  you  in  a  dark  and  unfrequented 
road,  and  not  in  your  house  where  the  moral  pres- 
sure would  be  greatest?  Also,  why  did  he  write 
you  a  threatening  letter  which  would  certainly 

54> 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

bring  him  into  the  grip  of  the  law  and  would  have 
saved  you  a  great  deal  of  unpleasantness  if  he  had 
decided  upon  taking  action?" 

He  tapped  his  white  teeth  with  the  end  of  his 
pencil  and  then  suddenly, 

*T  think  I'll  see  that  letter,"  he  said. 

John  Lexman  rose  from  the  sofa,  crossed  to  the 
safe,  unlocked  it  and  was  unlocking  the  steel 
drawer  in  which  he  had  placed  the  incriminating 
document.  His  hand  was  on  the  key  when  T.  X. 
noticed  the  look  of  surprise  on  his  face. 

"What  is  it*?"  asked  the  detective  suddenly. 

"This  drawer  feels  very  hot,"  said  John, — he 
looked  round  as  though  to  measure  the  distance 
between  the  safe  and  the  fire. 

T.  X.  laid  his  hand  upon  the  front  of  the 
drawer.     It  was  indeed  warm. 

"Open  it,"  said  T.  X.,  and  Lexman  turned  the 
key  and  pulled  the  drawer  open. 

As  he  did  so,  the  whole  contents  burst  up  in  a 
quick  blaze  of  flame.  It  died  down  immediately 
and  left  only  a  little  coil  of  smoke  that  flowed 
from  the  safe  into  the  room. 

56 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Don't  touch  anything  inside,"  said  T.  X. 
quickly. 

He  lifted  the  drawer  carefully  and  placed  it 
under  the  light.  In  the  bottom  was  no  more  than 
a  few  crumpled  white  ashes  and  a  blister  of  paint 
where  the  flame  had  caught  the  side. 

*T  see,"  said  T.  X.  slowly. 

He  saw  something  more  than  that  handful  of 
ashes,  he  saw  the  deadly  peril  in  which  his  friend 
was  standing.  Here  was  one  half  of  the  evidence 
in  Lexman's  favour  gone,  irredeemably. 

"The  letter  was  written  on  a  paper  which  was 
specially  prepared  by  a  chemical  process  which 
disintegrated  the  moment  the  paper  was  exposed 
to  the  air.  Probably  if  you  delayed  putting  the 
letter  in  the  drawer  another  five  minutes,  you 
would  have  seen  it  burn  before  your  eyes.  As  it 
was,  it  was  smouldering  before  you  had  turned 
the  key  of  the  box.     The  envelope'?" 

"Kara  burnt  it,"  said  Lexman  in  a  low  voice, 
"I  remember  seeing  him  take  it  up  from  the  table 
and  throw  it  in  the  fire." 

T.  X.  nodded. 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"There  remains  the  other  half  of  the  evidence," 
he  said  grimly,  and  when  an  hour  later,  the  vil- 
lage constable  returned  to  report  that  in  spite  of 
his  most  careful  search  he  had  failed  to  discover 
the  dead  man's  revolver,  his  anticipations  were 
realized. 

The  next  morning  John  Lexman  was  lodged  in 
Lewes  gaol  on  a  charge  of  wilful  murder. 

A  telegram  brought  Mansus  from  London  to 
Beston  Tracey,  and  T.  X.  received  him  in  the 
library. 

'T  sent  for  you,  Mansus,  because  I  suffer  from 
the  illusion  that  you  have  more  brains  than  most 
of  the  people  in  my  department,  and  that's  not 
saying  much." 

"I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  sir,  for  putting  me 
right  with  Commissioner,"  began  Mansus,  but  T: 
X.  stopped  him. 

"It  is  the  duty  of  every  head  of  departments," 
he  said  oracularly,  "to  shield  the  incompetence  of 
his  subordinates.  It  is  only  by  the  adoption  of 
some  such  method  that  the  decencies  of  the  public 

57 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

life  can  be  observed.     Now  get  down  to  this." 

He  gave  a  sketch  of  the  case  from  start  to  finish 
in  as  brief  a  space  of  time  as  possible. 

"The  evidence  against  Mr.  Lexman  is  very 
heavy,"  he  said.  "He  borrowed  money  from  this 
man,  and  on  the  man's  body  were  found  particu- 
lars of  the  very  Promissory  Note  which  Lexman 
signed.  Why  he  should  have  brought  it  with 
him,  I  cannot  say.  Anyhow  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  Mr.  Lexman  will  get  a  jury  to  accept  his 
version.  Our  only  chance  is  to  find  the  Greek's 
revolver — I  don't  think  there's  any  very  great 
chance,  but  if  we  are  to  be  successful  we  must 
make  a  search  at  once." 

Before  he  went  out  he  had  an  interview  with 
Grace.  The  dark  shadows  under  her  eyes  told  of 
a  sleepless  night.  She  was  unusually  pale  and 
surprisingly  calm. 

"I  think  there  are  one  or  two  things  I  ought 
to  tell  you,"  she  said,  as  she  led  the  way  into  the 
drawing  room,'  closing  the  door  behind  him. 

"And  they  concern  Mr.  Kara,  I  think,"  said  T. 
X. 

58 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

She  looked  at  him  startled. 

"How  did  you  know  that?" 

"I  know  nothing." 

He  hesitated  on  the  brink  of  a  flippant  claim  of 
omniscience,  but  realizing  in  time  the  agony  she 
must  be  suffering  he  checked  his  natural  desire. 

"I  really  know  nothing,"  he  continued,  "but  I 
guess  a  lot,"  and  that  was  as  near  to  the  truth  as 
you  might  expect  T.  X.  to  reach  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment. 

She  began  without  preliminary. 

"In  the  first  place  I  must  tell  you  that  Mr.  Kara 
once  asked  me  to  marry  him,  and  for  reasons 
which  I  will  give  you,  I  am  dreadfully  afraid  of 
him." 

She  described  without  reserve  the  meeting  at 
Salonika  and  Kara's  extravagant  rage  and  told  of 
the  attempt  which  had  been  made  upon  her. 

"Does  John  know  this*?"  asked  T.  X. 

She  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"I  wish  I  had  told  him  now,"  she  said.  "Oh, 
how  I  wish  I  had !"  She  wrung  her  hands  in  an 
ecstasy  of  sorrow  and  remorse. 

69 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  looked  at  her  sympathetically.  Then  he 
asked, 

"Did  Mr.  Kara  ever  discuss  your  husband's 
financial  position  with  you?" 

"Never." 

"How  did  John  Lexman  happen  to  meet  Vas- 
salaro*?" 

"I  can  tell  you  that,"  she  answered,  "the  first 
time  we  met  Mr.  Kara  in  England  was  when  we 
were  staying  at  Babbacombe  on  a  summer  holi- 
day— which  was  really  a  prolongation  of  our  hon- 
eymoon. Mr.  Kara  came  to  stay  at  the  same 
hotel.  I  think  Mr.  Vassalaro  must  have  been 
there  before;  at  any  rate  they  knew  one  another 
and  after  Kara's  introduction  to  my  husband  the 
rest  was  easy. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  John*?"  she  asked  pite- 
ously. 

T.  X.  shook  his  head. 

"So  far  as  your  story  is  concerned,  I  don't  think 
you  will  advantage  him  by  telling  it,"  he  said. 
"There  is  nothing  whatever  to  connect  Kara  with 

60 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

this  business  and  you  would  only  give  your  hus- 
band a  great  deal  of  pain.  I'll  do  the  best  I 
can." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  she  grasped  it  and 
somehow  at  that  moment  there  came  to  T.  X. 
Meredith  a  new  courage,  a  new  faith  and  a 
greater  determination  than  ever  to  solve  this  trou- 
blesome mystery. 

He  found  Mansus  waiting  for  him  in  a  car  out- 
side and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  at  the  scene 
of  the  tragedy.  A  curious  little  knot  of  specta- 
tors had  gathered,  looking  with  morbid  interest  at 
the  place  where  the  body  had  been  found.  There 
was  a  local  policeman  on  duty  and  to  him  was 
deputed  the  ungracious  task  of  warning  his  fellow 
villagers  to  keep  their  distance.  The  ground  had 
already  been  searched  very  carefully.  The  two 
roads  crossed  almost  at  right  angles  and  at  the 
corner  of  the  cross  thus  formed,  the  hedges  were 
broken,  admitting  to  a  field  which  had  evidently 
been  used  as  a  pasture  by  an  adjoining  dairy  farm. 
Some  rough  attempt  had  been  made  to  close  the 
gap  with  barbed  wire,  but  it  was  possible  to  step 

61 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

over  the  drooping  strands  with  little  or  no  diffi- 
culty. It  was  to  this  gap  that  T.  X.  devoted  his 
principal  attention.  All  the  fields  had  been  care- 
fully examined  without  result,  the  four  drains 
which  were  merely  the  connecting  pipes  between 
ditches  at  the  sides  of  the  crossroads  had  been 
swept  out  and  only  the  broken  hedge  and  its  tan- 
gle of  bushes  behind  offered  any  prospect  of  the 
new  search  being  rewarded. 

"Hullo  I"  said  Mansus,  suddenly,  and  stooping 
down  he  picked  up  something  from  the  ground. 

T.  X.  took  it  in  his  hand. 

It  was  unmistakably  a  revolver  cartridge.  He 
marked  the  spot  where  it  had  been  found  by  jam- 
ming his  walking  stick  into  the  ground  and  con- 
tinued his  search,  but  without  success. 

"I  am  afraid  we  shall  find  nothing  more  here," 
said  T.  X.,  after  half  an  hour's  further  search. 
He  stood  with  his  chin  in  his  hand,  a  frown  on  his 
face. 

"Mansus,"  he  said,  "suppose  there  were  three 
people  here,  Lexman,  the  money  lender  and  a 
third  witness.     And  suppose  this  third  person  for 

62 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

some  reason  unknown  was  interested  in  what  took 
place  between  the  two  men  and  he  wanted  to 
watch  unobserved.  Isn't  it  likely  that  if  he,  as  I 
think,  instigated  the  meeting,  he  would  have 
chosen  this  place  because  this  particular  hedge 
gave  him  a  chance  of  seeing  without  being  seen*?" 

Mansus  thought. 

"He  could  have  seen  just  as  well  from  either  of 
the  other  hedges,  with  less  chance  of  detection," 
he  said,  after  a  long  pause. 

T.  X.  grinned. 

"You  have  the  makings  of  a  brain,"  he  said 
admiringly.  "I  agree  with  you.  Always  remem- 
ber that,  Mansus.  That  there  was  one  occasion 
in  your  life  when  T.  X.  Meredith  and  you 
thought  alike." 

Mansus  smiled  a  little  feebly. 

"Of  course  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  ob- 
server this  was  the  worst  place  possible,  so  who- 
ever came  here,  if  they  did  come  here,  dropping 
revolver  bullets  about,  must  have  chosen  the  spot 
because  it  was  get-at-able  from  another  direction. 
Obviously  he  couldn't  come  down  the  road  and 

63 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

climb  in  without  attracting  the  attention  of  the 
Greek  who  was  waiting  for  Mr.  Lexman.  We 
may  suppose  there  is  a  gate  farther  along  the 
road,  we  may  suppose  that  he  entered  that  gate, 
came  along  the  field  by  the  side  of  the  hedge  and 
that  somewhere  between  here  and  the  gate,  he 
threw  away  his  cigar." 

"His  cigar*?"  said  Mansus  in  surprise. 

"His  cigar,"  repeated  T.  X.,  "if  he  was  alone, 
he  would  keep  his  cigar  alight  until  the  very  last 
moment." 

"He  might  have  thrown  it  into  the  road,"  said 
Mansus. 

"Don't  jibber,"  said  T.  X.,  and  led  the  way 
along  the  hedge.  From  where  they  stood  they 
could  see  the  gate  which  led  on  to  the  road  about 
a  hundred  yards  further  on.  Within  a  dozen 
yards  of  that  gate,  T.  X.  found  what  he  had  been 
searching  for,  a  half -smoked  cigar.  It  was  sod- 
den with  rain  and  he  picked  it  up  tenderly. 

"A  good  cigar,  if  I  am  any  judge,"  he  said, 
"cut  with  a  penknife,  and  smoked  through  a 
holder." 

64) 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TYv^ISTED  CANDLE 

They  reached  the  gate  and  passed  through. 
Here  they  were  on  the  road  again  and  this  T.  X. 
followed  until  they  reached  another  cross  road, 
that  to  the  left  inclining  southward  to  the  main 
Eastbourne  Road  and  that  to  the  westward  loop- 
ing back  to  the  Lewes-Eastbourne  railway.  The 
rain  had  obliterated  much  that  T.  X.  was  looking 
for,  but  presently  he  found  a  faint  indication  of  a 
car  wheel. 

"This  is  where  she  turned  and  backed,"  he  said, 
and  walked  slowly  to  the  road  on  the  left,  *'and 
this  is  where  she  stood.  There  is  the  grease  from 
her  engine." 

He  stooped  down  and  moved  forward  in  the 
attitude  of  a  Russian  dancer,  "And  here  are  the 
wax  matches  which  the  chauffeur  struck,"  he 
counted,  "one,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  allow 
three  for  each  cigarette  on  a  boisterous  night  like 
last  night,  that  makes  three  cigarettes.  Here  is  a 
cigarette  end,  Mansus,  Gold  Flake  brand,"  he 
said,  as  he  examined  it  carefully,  "and  a  Gold 
Flake  brand  smokes  for  twelve  minutes  in  normal 
weather,  but  about  eight  minutes  in  gusty  weather. 

65 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  car  was  here  for  about  twenty-four  min- 
utes— what  do  you  think  of  that,  Mansus*?" 

"A  good  bit  of  reasoning,  T.  X.,"  said  the  other 
calmly,  "if  it  happens  to  be  the  car  you're  looking 
for." 

'T  am  looking  for  any  old  car,"  said  T.  X. 

He  found  no  other  trace  of  car  wheels  though 
he  carefully  followed  up  the  little  lane  until  it 
reached  the  main  road.  After  that  it  was  hope- 
less to  search  because  rain  had  fallen  in  the  night 
and  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning.  He  drove 
his  assistant  to  the  railway  station  in  time  to 
catch  the  train  at  one  o'clock  to  London. 

"You  will  go  straight  to  Cadogan  Square  and 
arrest  the  chauffeur  of  Mr.  Kara,"  he  said. 

"Upon  what  charge"?"  asked  Mansus  hurriedly. 

When  it  came  to  the  step  which  T.  X.  thought 
fit  to  take  in  the  pursuance  of  his  duty,  Mansus 
was  beyond  surprise. 

"You  can  charge  him  with  anything  you  like," 
said  T.  X.,  with  fine  carelessness,  "probably  some- 
thing will  occur  to  you  on  your  way  up  to  town. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  the  chauffeur  has  been  called 

66 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

unexpectedly  away  to  Greece  and  has  probably 
left  by  this  morning's  train  for  the  Continent.  If 
that  is  so,  we  can  do  nothing,  because  the  boat  will 
have  left  Dover  and  will  have  landed  him  at  Bou- 
logne, but  if  by  any  luck  you  get  him,  keep  him 
busy  until  I  get  back." 

T.  X.  himself  was  a  busy  man  that  day,  and  it 
was  not  until  night  was  falling  that  he  again 
turned  to  Beston  Tracey  to  find  a  telegram  wait- 
ing for  him.     He  opened  it  and  read, 

"Chauffeur's  name,  Goole.  Formerly  waiter  English 
Club,  Constantinople.  Left  for  east  by  early  train  this 
morning,  his  mother  being  ill." 

"His  mother  ill,"  said  T.  X.  contemptuously, 
"how  very  feeble, — I  should  have  thought  Kara 
could  have  gone  one  better  than  that." 

He  was  in  John  Lexman's  study  as  the  door 
opened  and  the  maid  announced,  "Mr.  Reming- 
ton Kara." 


§7 


CHAPTER  IV 

T.  X.  folded  the  telegram  very  carefully  and 
slipped  it  into  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

He  favoured  the  newcomer  with  a  little  bow 
and  taking  upon  himself  the  honours  of  the  estab- 
lishment, pushed  a  chair  to  his  visitor. 

"I  think  you  know  my  name,"  said  Kara  easily, 
"I  am  a  friend  of  poor  Lexman's." 

"So  I  am  told,"  said  T.  X.,  "but  don't  let  your 
friendship  for  Lexman  prevent  your  sitting 
down." 

For  a  moment  the  Greek  was  nonplussed  and 
then,  with  a  little  smile  and  bow,  he  seated  him- 
self by  the  writing  table. 

"I  am  very  distressed  at  this  happening,"  he 
went  on,  "and  I  am  more  distressed  because  I  feel 
that  as  I  introduced  Lexman  to  this  unfortunate 
man,  I  am  in  a  sense  responsible." 

"If  I  were  you,"  said  T.  X.,  leaning  back  in 
68 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  chair  and  looking  half  questioningly  and  half 
earnestly  into  the  face  of  the  other,  "I  shouldn't 
let  that  fact  keep  me  awake  at  night.  Most  peo- 
ple are  murdered  as  a  result  of  an  introduction. 
The  cases  where  people  murder  total  strangers  are 
singularly  rare.  That  I  think  is  due  to  the  in- 
sularity of  our  national  character." 

Again  the  other  was  taken  back  and  puzzled  by 
the  flippancy  of  the  man  from  whom  he  had  ex- 
pected at  least  the  official  manner. 

"When  did  you  see  Mr.  Vassalaro  last^"  asked 
T.  X.  pleasantly. 

Kara  raised  his  eyes  as  though  considering. 

"I  think  it  must  have  been  nearly  a  week  ago." 

"Think  again,"  said  T.  X. 

For  a  second  the  Greek  started  and  again  re- 
laxed into  a  smile. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  began. 

"Don't  worry  about  that,"  said  T.  X.,  "but  let 
me  ask  you  this  question.  You  were  here  last 
night  when  Mr.  Lexman  received  a  letter.  That 
he  did  receive  a  letter,  there  is  considerable  evi- 
dence," he  said  as  he. saw  the  other  hesitate,  "be- 

69 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

cause  we  have  the  supporting  statements  of  the 
servant  and  the  postman." 

"I  was  here,"  said  the  other,  deliberately,  "and 
I  was  present  when  Mr.  Lexman  received  a 
letter." 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"A  letter  written  on  some  brownish  paper  and 
rather  bulky,"  he  suggested. 

Again  there  was  that  momentary  hesitation. 

"I  would  not  swear  to  the  color  of  the  paper  or 
as  to  the  bulk  of  the  letter,"  he  said. 

"I  should  have  thought  you  would,"  suggested 
T.  X.,  "because  you  see,  you  burnt  the  envelope, 
and  I  presumed  you  would  have  noticed  that." 

"I  have  no  recollection  of  burning  any  envel- 
ope," said  the  other  easily. 

"At  any  rate,"  T.  X.  went  on,  "when  Mr.  Lex- 
man  read  this  letter  out  to  you  .  .  ." 

"To  which  letter  are  you  referring  *?"  asked  the 
other,  with  a  lift  of  his  eyebrows. 

"Mr.  Lexman  received  a  threatening  letter,"  re- 
peated T.  X.  patiently,  "which  he  read  out  to  you, 
and  which  was  addressed  to  him  by  Vassalaro. 

70 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

This  letter  was  handed  to  you  and  you  also  read 
it.  Mr.  Lexman  to  your  knowledge  put  the  let- 
ter in  his  safe — in  a  steel  drawer." 

The  other  shook  his  head,  smiling  gently. 

*T  am  afraid  you've  made  a  great  mistake,"  he 
said  almost  apologetically,  * 'though  I  have  a  recol- 
lection of  his  receiving  a  letter,  I  did  not  read  it, 
nor  was  it  read  to  me." 

The  eyes  of  T.  X.  narrowed  to  the  very  slits 
and  his  voice  became  metallic  and  hard. 

"And  if  I  put  you  into  the  box,  will  you  swear 
that  you  did  not  see  that  letter,  nor  read  it,  nor 
have  it  read  to  you,  and  that  you  have  no  knowl- 
edge whatever  of  such  a  letter  having  been  re- 
ceived by  Mr.  Lexman*?" 

"Most  certainly,"  said  the  other  coolly. 

"Would  you  swear  that  you  have  not  seen  Vas- 
salaro  for  a  week?" 

"Certainly,"  smiled  the  Greek. 

"That  you  did  not  in  fact  see  him  last  night," 
persisted  T.  X.,  "and  interview  him  on  the  station 
platform  at  Lewes,  that  you  did  not  after  leaving 
him  continue  on  your  way  to  London  and  then 

71 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

turn  your  car  and  return  to  the  neighbourhood  of 
Beston  Tracey*?" 

The  Greek  was  white  to  the  lips,  but  not  a 
muscle  of  his  face  moved. 

"Will  you  also  swear,"  continued  T.  X.  inex- 
orably, "that  you  did  not  stand  at  the  corner  of 
what  is  known  as  Mitre's  Lot  and  re-enter  a 
gate  near  to  the  side  where  your  car  was,  and  that 
you  did  not  watch  the  whole  tragedy?" 

"I'd  swear  to  that,"  Kara's  voice  was  strained 
and  cracked. 

"Would  you  also  swear  as  to  the  hour  of  your 
arrival  in  London  *?" 

"Somewhere  in  the  region  of  ten  or  eleven," 
said  the  Greek. 

T.  X.  smiled. 

"Would  you  swear  that  you  did  not  go  through 
Guilford  at  half-past  twelve  and  pull  up  to  re- 
plenish your  petrol?" 

The  Greek  had  now  recovered  his  self-posses- 
sion and  rose. 

"You  are  a  very  clever  man,  Mr.  Meredith — I 
think  that  is  your  name?" 

7« 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"That  is  my  name,"  said  T.  X.  calmly. 
"There  has  been  no  need  for  me  to  change  it  as 
often  as  you  have  found  the  necessity." 

He  saw  the  fire  blazing  in  the  other's  eyes  and 
knew  that  his  shot  had  gone  home. 

"I  am  afraid  I  must  go,"  said  Kara.  *T  came 
here  intending  to  see  Mrs.  Lexman,  and  I  had  no 
idea  that  I  should  meet  a  policeman." 

"My  dear  Mr.  Kara,"  said  T.  X.,  rising  and 
lighting  a  cigarette,  "you  will  go  through  life  en- 
during that  unhappy  experience — " 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  what  I  say.  You  will  always  be  expect- 
ing to  meet  one  person,  and  meeting  another,  and 
unless  you  are  very  fortunate  indeed,  that  other 
will  always  be  a  policeman." 

His  eyes  twinkled  for  he  had  recovered  from  the 
gust  of  anger  which  had  swept  through  him. 

"There  are  two  pieces  of  evidence  I  require  to 
save  Mr.  Lexman  from  very  serious  trouble,"  he 
said,  "the  first  of  these  is  the  letter  which  was 
burnt,  as  you  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Kara. 

7S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  leant  across  the  desk. 

"How  did  you  know^"  he  snapped. 

"Somebody  told  me,  I  don't  know  who  it  was." 

'That's  not  true,"  replied  T.  X.;  "nobody 
knows  except  myself  and  Mrs.  Lexman." 

*'But  my  dear  good  fellow,"  said  Kara,  pulling 
on  his  gloves,  "you  have  already  asked  me  whether 
I  didn't  burn  the  letter." 

"I  said  envelope,"  said  T.  X.,  with  a  little 
laugh. 

"And  you  were  going  to  say  something  about 
the  other  clue?" 

"The  other  is  the  revolver,"  said  T.  X. 

"Mr.  Lexman's  revolver*?"  drawled  the  Greek. 

"That  we  have,"  said  T.  X.  shortly.  "What 
we  want  is  the  weapon  which  the  Greek  had  when 
he  threatened  Mr.  Lexman." 

"There,  I'm  afraid  I  cannot  help  you." 

Kara  walked  to  the  door  and  T.  X.  followed. 

"I  think  I  will  see  Mrs.  Lexman." 

"I  think  not,"  said  T.  X. 

The  other  turned  with  a  sneer. 

"Have  you  arrested  her,  too?"  he  asked. 
74 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Pull  yourself  together!"  said  T.  X.  coarsely. 

He  escorted  Kara  to  his  waiting  limousine. 

"You  have  a  new  chauffeur  to-night,  I  ob- 
serve," he  said. 

Kara  towering  with  rage  stepped  daintily  into 
the  car. 

"If  you  are  writing  to  the  other  you  might  give 
him  my  love,"  said  T.  X.,  "and  make  most  tender 
enquiries  after  his  mother.  I  particularly  ask 
this." 

Kara  said  nothing  until  the  car  was  out  of  ear- 
shot then  he  lay  back  on  the  down  cushions  and 
abandoned  himself  to  a  paroxysm  of  rage  and 
blasphemy. 


75 


CHAPTER  V 

Six  months  later  T.  X.  Meredith  was  la- 
boriously tracing  an  elusive  line  which  occurred 
on  an  ordnance  map  of  Sussex  when  the  Chief 
Commissioner  announced  himself. 

Sir  George  described  T.  X.  as  the  most  whole- 
some corrective  a  public  official  could  have,  and 
never  missed  an  opportunity  of  meeting  his  subor- 
dinate (as  he  said)  for  this  reason. 

"What  are  you  doing  there*?"  he  growled. 

"The  lesson  this  morning,"  said  T.  X.  without 
looking  up,  "is  maps." 

Sir  George  passed  behind  his  assistant  and 
looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"That  is  a  very  old  map  you  have  got  there," 
he  said. 

"1876.  It  shows  the  course  of  a  number  of  in- 
teresting little  streams  in  this  neighbourhood 
which  have  been  lost  sight  of  for  one  reason  or  the 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

other  by  the  gentleman  who  made  the  survey  at 
a  later  period.  I  am  perfectly  sure  that  in  one  of 
these  streams  I  shall  find  what  I  am  seeking." 

"You  haven't  given  up  hope,  then,  in  regard 
to  Lexman^" 

"I  shall  never  give  up  hope,"  said  T.  X.,  "until 
I  am  dead,  and  possibly  not  then." 

"Let  me  see,  what  did  he  get — fifteen  years?" 

"Fifteen  years,"  repeated  T.  X.,  "and  a  very 
fortunate  man  to  escape  with  his  life." 

Sir  George  walked  to  the  window  and  stared 
out  on  to  busy  Whitehall. 

"I  am  told  you  are  quite  friendly  with  Kara 
again." 

T.  X.  made  a  noise  which  might  be  taken  to  in- 
dicate his  assent  to  the  statement. 

"I  suppose  you  know  that  gentleman  has  made 
a  very  heroic  attempt  to  get  you  fired,"  he  said. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  T.  X.  "I  made  as 
heroic  an  attempt  to  get  him  hung,  and  one  good 
turn  deserves  another.  What  did  he  do"?  See 
ministers  and  people*?" 

"He  did,"  said  Sir  George. 
77 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"He's  a  silly  ass,"  responded  T.  X. 

"I  can  understand  all  that" — the  Chief  Com- 
missioner turned  round — "but  what  I  cannot  un- 
derstand is  your  apology  to  him." 

"There  are  so  many  things  you  don't  under- 
stand, Sir  George,"  said  T.  X.  tartly,  "that  I  de- 
spair of  ever  cataloguing  them." 

"You  are  an  insolent  cub,"  growled  his  Chief. 
"Come  to  lunch." 

"Where  will  you  take  me*?"  asked  T.  X.  cau- 
tiously. 

"To  my  club." 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  the  other,  with  elaborate  po- 
liteness, "I  have  lunched  once  at  your  club. 
Need  I  say  more"?" 

He  smiled,  as  he  worked  after  his  Chief  had 
gone,  at  the  recollection  of  Kara's  profound  as- 
tonishment and  the  gratification  he  strove  so  des- 
perately to  disguise. 

Kara  was  a  vain  man,  immensely  conscious  of 
his  good  looks,  conscious  of  his  wealth.  He  had 
behaved  most  handsomely,  for  not  only  had  he 
accepted  the  apology,  but  he  left  nothing  undone 

78 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

to  show  his  desire  to  create  a  good  impression 
upon  the  man  who  had  so  grossly  insulted  him. 

T.  X.  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  stay  a  week- 
end at  Kara's  "little  place  in  the  country,"  and 
had  found  there  assembled  everything  that  the 
heart  could  desire  in  the  way  of  fellowship,  emi- 
nent politicians  who  might  conceivably  be  of 
service  to  an  ambitious  young  Assistant  Commis- 
sioner of  Police,  beautiful  ladies  to  interest  and 
amuse  him.  Kara  had  even  gone  to  the  length  of 
engaging  a  theatrical  company  to  play  "Sweet 
Lavender,"  and  for  this  purpose  the  big  ballroom 
at  Hever  Court  had  been  transformed  into  a 
theatre. 

As  he  was  undressing  for  bed  that  night  T.  X. 
remembered  that  he  had  mentioned  to  Kara  that 
"Sweet  Lavender"  was  his  favorite  play,  and 
he  realized  that  the  entertainment  was  got  up  es- 
pecially for  his  benefit. 

In  a  score  of  other  ways  Kara  had  endeavoured 
to  consolidate  the  friendship.  He  gave  the  young 
Commissioner  advice  about  a  railway  company 
which  was  operating  in  Asia  Minor,  and  the  shares 

79 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

of  which  stood  a  little  below  par.  T.  X.  thanked 
him  for  the  advice,  and  did  not  take  it,  nor  did 
he  feel  any  regret  when  the  shares  rose  £3  in  as 
many  weeks. 

T.  X.  had  superintended  the  disposal  of  Bes- 
ton  Priory.  He  had  the  furniture  removed  to 
London,  and  had  taken  a  flat  for  Grace  Lex- 
man. 

She  had  a  small  income  of  her  own,  and  this, — 
added  to  the  large  royalties  which  came  to  her 
(as  she  was  bitterly  conscious)  in  increasing  vol- 
ume as  the  result  of  the  publicity  of  the  trial, 
placed  her  beyond  fear  of  want. 

"Fifteen  years,"  murmured  T.  X.,  as  he  worked 
and  whistled. 

There  had  been  no  hope  for  John  Lexman  from 
the  start.  He  was  in  debt  to  the  man  he  killed. 
His  story  of  threatening  letters  was  not  substan- 
tiated. The  revolver  which  he  said  had  been 
flourished  at  him  had  never  been  found.  Two 
people  believed  implicitly  in  the  story,  and  a  sym- 
pathetic Home  Secretary  had  assured  T.  X.  per- 
sonally that  if  he  could  find  the  revolver  and  asso- 

80 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

date  it  with  the  murder  beyond  any  doubt,  John 
Lexman  would  be  pardoned. 

Every  stream  in  the  neighbourhood  had  been 
dragged.  In  one  case  a  small  river  had  been 
dammed,  and  the  bed  had  been  carefully  dried 
and  sifted,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  the  weapon, 
and  T.  X.  had  tried  methods  more  effective  and 
certainly  less  legal. 

A  mysterious  electrician  had  called  at  456  Ca- 
dogan  Square  in  Kara's  absence,  and  he  was  armed 
with  such  indisputable  authority  that  he  was  per- 
mitted to  penetrate  to  Kara's  private  room,  in 
order  to  examine  certain  fitments. 

Kara  returning  next  day  thought  no  more  of  the 
matter  when  it  was  reported  to  him,  until  going  to 
his  safe  that  night  he  discovered  that  it  had  been 
opened  and  ransacked. 

As  it  happened,  most  of  Kara's  valuable  and 
confidential  possessions  were  at  the  bank.  In  a 
fret  of  panic  and  at  considerable  cost  he  had  the 
safe  removed  and  another  put  in  its  place  of  such 
potency  that  the  makers  offered  to  indemnify  him 
against  any  loss  from  burglary. 

81 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  finished  his  work,  washed  his  hands,  and 
was  drying  them  when  Mansus  came  bursting  into 
the  room.  It  was  not  usual  for  Mansus  to  burst 
into  anywhere.  He  was  a  slow,  methodical, 
painstaking  man,  with  a  deliberate  and  an  official 
manner. 

"What's  the  matter^"  asked  T.  X.  quickly. 

*'We  didn't  search  Vassalaro's  lodgings,"  cried 
Mansus  breathlessly.  "It  just  occurred  to  me  as 
I  was  coming  over  Westminster  Bridge.  I  was 
on  top  of  a  bus — " 

'Wake  up!"  said  T.  X.  "You're  amongst 
friends  and  cut  all  that  'bus'  stuff  out.  Of 
course  we  searched  Vassalaro's  lodgings!" 

"No,  we  didn't,  sir,"  said  the  other  triumph- 
antly.    "He  lived  in  Great  James  Street." 

"He  lived  in  the  Adelphi,"  corrected  T.  X. 

"There  were  two  places  where  he  lived,"  said 
Mansus. 

"When  did  you  learn  this?'  asked  his  Chief, 
dropping  his  flippancy. 

"This  morning.  I  was  on  a  bus  coming  across 
Westminster  Bridge,  and  there  were  two  men  in 

8S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

front  of  me,  and  I  heard  the  word  'Vassalaro'  and 
naturally  I  pricked  up  my  ears." 

"It  was  very  unnatural,  but  proceed,"  said 
T.  X. 

*'One  of  the  men — a  very  respectable  person — 
said,  'That  chap  Vassalaro  used  to  lodge  in  my 
place,  and  I've  still  got  a  lot  of  his  things.  What 
do  you  think  I  ought  to  do?'  " 

"And  you  said,"  suggested  the  other. 

*T  nearly  frightened  his  life  out  of  him,"  said 
Mansus.  "I  said,  T  am  a  police  officer  and  I 
want  you  to  come  along  with  me.'  " 

"And  of  course  he  shut  up  and  would  not  say 
another  word,"  said  T.  X. 

"That's  true,  sir,"  said  Mansus,  "but  after 
awhile  I  got  him  to  talk.  Vassalaro  lived  in  Great 
James  Street,  604,  on  the  third  floor.  In  fact, 
some  of  his  fumiture  is  there  still.  He  had  a 
good  reason  for  keeping  two  addresses  by  all  ac- 
counts." 

T.  X.  nodded  wisely. 

"What  was  her  name?"  he  asked. 

"He  had  a  wife,"  said  the  other,  "but  she  left 
83 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

him  about  four  months  before  he  was  killed.  He 
used  the  Adelphi  address  for  business  purposes 
and  apparently  he  slept  two  or  three  nights  of  the 
week  at  Great  James  Street.  I  have  told  the  man 
to  leave  everything  as  it  is,  and  that  we  will  come 
round." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  two  officers  were  in  the 
somewhat  gloomy  apartments  which  Vassalaro 
had  occupied. 

The  landlord  explained  that  most  of  the  fur- 
niture was  his,  but  that  there  were  certain  articles 
which  were  the  property  of  the  deceased  man. 
He  added,  somewhat  unnecessarily,  that  the  late 
tenant  owed  him  six  months'  rent. 

The  articles  which  had  been  the  property  of 
Vassalaro  included  a  tin  trunk,  a  small  writing 
bureau,  a  secretaire  bookcase  and  a  few  clothes. 
The  secretaire  was  locked,  as  was  the  writing  bu- 
reau. The  tin  box,  which  had  little  or  nothing  of 
interest,  was  unfastened. 

The  other  locks  needed  very  little  attention. 
Without  any  difficulty  Mansus  opened  both.  The 
leaf  of  the  bureau,  when  let  down,  formed  the 

84i 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

desk,  and  piled  up  inside  was  a  whole  mass  of  let- 
ters opened  and  unopened,  accounts,  note-books 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  which  an  untidy  man 
collects. 

Letter  by  letter,  T.  X.  went  through  the  ac- 
cumulation without  finding  anything  to  help  him. 
Then  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  small  tin  case 
thrust  into  one  of  the  oblong  pigeon  holes  at  the 
back  of  the  desk.  This  he  pulled  out  and  opened 
and  found  a  small  wad  of  paper  wrapped  in  tin 
foil. 

"Hello,  hello  I"  said  T.  X.,  and  he  was  pardon- 
ably exhilarated. 


85 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  MAN  Stood  in  the  speckless  courtyard  before  the 
Governor's  house  at  Dartmoor  gaol.  He  wore 
the  ugly  livery  of  shame  which  marks  the  con- 
vict. His  head  was  clipped  short,  and  there  was 
two  days'  growth  of  beard  upon  his  haggard  face. 
Standing  with  his  hands  behind  him,  he  waited  for 
the  moment  when  he  would  be  ordered  to  his  work. 
John  Lexman — A.  O.  43 — looked  up  at  the 
blue  sky  as  he  had  looked  so  many  times  from 
the  exercise  yard,  and  wondered  what  the  day 
would  bring  forth.  A  day  to  him  was  the  be- 
ginning and  the  end  of  an  eternity.  He  dare  not 
let  his  mind  dwell  upon  the  long  aching  years 
ahead.  He  dare  not  think  of  the  woman  he  left, 
or  let  his  mind  dwell  upon  the  agony  which  she 
was  enduring.  He  had  disappeared  from  the 
world,  the  world  he  loved,  and  the  world  that 
knew  him,  and  all  that  there  was  in  life ;  all  that 
was  worth  while  had  been  crushed  and  obliterated 

86 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

into  the  granite  of  the  Princetown  quarries,  and  its 
wide  horizon  shrunken  by  the  gaunt  moorland  with 
its  menacing  tors. 

New  interests  made  up  his  existence.  The 
quality  of  the  food  was  one.  The  character  of 
the  book  he  would  receive  from  the  prison  library 
another.  The  future  meant  Sunday  chapel;  the 
present  whatever  task  they  found  him.  For  the 
day  he  was  to  paint  some  doors  and  windows  of 
an  outlying  cottage.  A  cottage  occupied  by  a 
warder  who,  for  some  reason,  on  the  day  previous, 
had  spoken  to  him  with  a  certain  kindness  and  a 
certain  respect  which  was  unusual. 

"Face  the  wall,"  growled  a  voice,  and  mechan- 
ically he  turned,  his  hands  still  behind  him,  and 
stood  staring  at  the  grey  wall  of  the  prison  store- 
house. 

He  heard  the  shuffling  feet  of  the  quarry  gang, 
his  ears  caught  the  clink  of  the  chains  which  bound 
them  together.  They  were  desperate  men,  pe- 
culiarly interesting  to  him,  and  he  had  watched 
their  faces  furtively  in  the  early  period  of  his  im- 
prisonment. 

87 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  had  been  sent  to  Dartmoor  after  spending 
three  months  in  Wormwood  Scrubbs.  Old  hands 
had  told  him  variously  that  he  was  fortunate  or 
unlucky.  It  was  usual  to  have  twelve  months  at 
the  Scrubbs  before  testing  the  life  of  a  convict 
establishment.  He  believed  there  was  some  talk 
of  sending  him  to  Parkhurst,  and  here  he  traced 
the  influence  which  T.  X.  would  exercise,  for 
Parkhurst  was  a  prisoner's  paradise. 

He  heard  his  warder's  voice  behind  him. 

"Right  turn,  43,  quick  march." 

He  walked  ahead  of  the  arm.ed  guard,  through 
the  great  and  gloomy  gates  of  the  prison,  turned 
sharply  to  the  right,  and  walked  up  the  village 
street  toward  the  moors,  beyond  the  village  of 
Princetown,  and  on  the  Tavistock  Road  where 
were  two  or  three  cottages  which  had  been  lately 
taken  by  the  prison  staff;  and  it  was  to  the  decora- 
tion of  one  of  these  that  A.  O.  43  had  been  sent. 

The  house  was  as  yet  without  a  tenant. 

A  paper-hanger  under  the  charge  of  another 
warder  was  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  painter. 
The  two  warders  exchanged  greetings,  and  the 

88 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

first  went  off  leaving  the  other  in  charge  of  both 
men. 

For  an  hour  they  worked  in  silence  under  the 
eyes  of  the  guard.  Presently  the  warder  went  out- 
side, and  John  Lexman  had  an  opportunity  of 
examining  his  fellow  sufferer. 

He  was  a  man  of  twenty-four  or  twenty-five, 
lithe  and  alert.  By  no  means  bad  looking,  he 
lacked  that  indefinable  suggestion  of  animalism 
which  distinguished  the  majority  of  the  inhabi- 
tants at  Dartmoor. 

They  waited  until  they  heard  the  warder's  step 
clear  the  passage,  and  until  his  iron-shod  boots 
were  tramping  over  the  cobbled  path  which  led 
from  the  door,  through  the  tiny  garden  to  the 
road,  before  the  second  man  spoke. 

"What  are  you  in  for?"  he  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Murder,"  said  John  Lexman,  laconically. 

He  had  answered  the  question  before,  and  had 
noticed  with  a  little  amusement  the  look  of  re- 
spect which  came  into  the  eyes  of  the  questioner. 

"What  have  you  got?' 

"Fifteen  years,"  said  the  other. 
89 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"That  means  1 1  years  and  9  months,"  said  the 
first  man.  "You've  never  been  here  before,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"Hardly,"  said  Lexman,  drily. 

*T  was  here  when  I  was  a  kid,"  confessed  the 
paper-hanger.     "I  am  going  out  next  week." 

John  Lexman  looked  at  him  enviously.  Had 
the  man  told  him  that  he  had  inherited  a  great 
fortune  and  a  greater  title  his  envy  would  not 
have  been  so  genuine. 

Going  out! 

The  drive  in  the  brake  to  the  station,  the  ride 
to  London  in  creased,  but  comfortable  clothing, 
free  as  the  air,  at  liberty  to  go  to  bed  and  rise 
when  he  liked,  to  choose  his  own  dinner,  to  an- 
swer no  call  save  the  call  of  his  conscience,  to  see 
— ^he  checked  himself. 

"What  are  you  in  for?"  he  asked  in  self-defence. 

"Conspiracy  and  fraud,"  said  the  other  cheer- 
fully. "I  was  put  away  by  a  woman  after  three 
of  us  had  got  clear  with  £12,000.  Damn'  rough 
luck,  wasn't  it?" 

90 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

John  nodded. 

It  was  curious,  he  thought,  how  sympathetic  one 
grows  with  these  exponents  of  crimes.  One  nat- 
urally adopts  their  point  of  view  and  sees  life 
through  their  distorted  vision. 

"I  bet  I'm  not  given  away  with  the  next  lot," 
the  prisoner  went  on.  "I've  got  one  of  the  big- 
gest ideas  I've  ever  had,  and  I've  got  a  real  good 
man  to  help  me." 

"How?"  asked  John,  in  surprise. 

The  man  jerked  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
prison. 

"Larry  Green,"  he  said  briefly.  "He's  coming 
out  next  month,  too,  and  we  are  all  fixed  up  proper. 
We  are  going  to  get  the  pile  and  then  we're  off 
to  South  America,  and  you  won't  see  us  for  dust." 

Though  he  employed  all  the  colloquialisms 
which  were  common,  his  tone  was  that  of  a  man 
of  education,  and  yet  there  was  something  in  his 
address  which  told  John  as  clearly  as  though  the 
man  had  confessed  as  much,  that  he  had  never  oc- 
cupied any  social  position  in  life. 

91 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  warder's  step  on  the  stones  outside  reduced 
them  to  silence.  Suddenly  his  voice  came  up  the 
stairs. 

"Forty-three,"  he  called  sharply,  "I  want  you 
down  here." 

John  took  his  paint  pot  and  brush  and  went 
clattering  down  the  uncarpeted  stairs. 

"Where's  the  other  man'?"  asked  the  warder,  in 
a  low  voice. 

"He's  upstairs  in  the  back  room." 

The  warder  stepped  out  of  the  door  and  looked 
left  and  right.  Coming  up  from  Princetown  was 
a  big,  grey  car. 

"Put  down  your  paint  pot,"  he  said. 

His  voice  was  shaking  with  excitement. 

"I  am  going  upstairs.  When  that  car  comes 
abreast  of  the  gate,  ask  no  questions  and  jump  into 
it.  Get  down  into  the  bottom  and  pull  a  sack 
over  you,  and  do  not  get  up  until  the  car  stops." 

The  blood  rushed  to  John  Lexman's  head,  and 
he  staggered. 

"My  God  I"  he  whispered. 

"Do  as  I  tell  you,"  hissed  the  warder. 
02 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Like  an  automaton  John  put  down  his  brushes, 
and  walked  slowly  to  the  gate.  The  grey  car  was 
crawling  up  the  hill,  and  the  face  of  the  driver  was 
half  enveloped  in  a  big  rubber  mask.  Through 
the  two  great  goggles  John  could  see  little  to  help 
him  identify  the  man.  As  the  machine  came  up 
to  the  gate,  he  leapt  into  the  tonneau  and  sank 
instantly  to  the  bottom.  As  he  did  so  he  felt  the 
car  leap  forward  underneath  him.  Now  it  was 
going  fast,  now  faster,  now  it  rocked  and  swayed 
as  it  gathered  speed.  He  felt  it  sweeping  down 
hill  and  up  hill,  and  once  he  heard  a  hollow  rumble 
as  it  crossed  a  wooden  bridge. 

He  could  not  detect  from  his  hiding  place  in 
what  direction  they  were  going,  but  he  gathered 
they  had  switched  off  to  the  left  and  were  mak- 
ing for  one  of  the  wildest  parts  of  the  moor. 
Never  once  did  he  feel  the  car  slacken  its  pace, 
until,  with  a  grind  of  brakes,  it  stopped  suddenly. 

"Get  out,"  said  a  voice. 

John  Lexman  threw  off  the  cover  and  leapt  out 
and  as  he  did  so  the  car  turned  and  sped  back  the 
way  it  had  come. 

93 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

For  a  moment  he  thought  he  was  alone,  and 
looked  around.  Far  away  in  the  distance  he  saw 
the  grey  bulk  of  Princetown  Gaol.  It  was  an  ac- 
cident that  he  should  see  it,  but  it  so  happened 
that  a  ray  of  the  sun  fell  athwart  it  and  threw  it 
into  relief. 

He  was  alone  on  the  moors  I  Where  could  he 
go? 

He  turned  at  the  sound  of  a  voice. 

He  was  standing  on  the  slope  of  a  small  tor. 
At  the  foot  there  was  a  smooth  stretch  of  green 
sward.  It  was  on  this  stretch  that  the  people  of 
Dartmoor  held  their  pony  races  in  the  summer 
months.  There  was  no  sign  of  horses,  but  only  a 
great  bat-like  machine  with  out-stretched  pinions 
of  taut  white  canvas,  and  by  that  machine  a  man 
clad  from  head  to  foot  in  brown  overalls. 

John  stumbled  down  the  slope.  As  he  neared 
the  machine  he  stopped  and  gasped. 

"Kara,"  he  said,  and  the  brown  man  smiled. 

"But,  I  do  not  understand.  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do?"  asked  Lexman,  when  he  had  recov- 
ered from  his  surprise. 

94 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  am  going  to  take  you  to  a  place  of  safety," 
said  the  other. 

"I  have  no  reason  to  be  grateful  to  you,  as  yet, 
Kara,"  breathed  Lexman.  "A  word  from  you 
could  have  saved  me." 

"I  could  not  lie,  my  dear  Lexman.  And  hon- 
estly, I  had  forgotten  the  existence  of  the  letter, 
if  that  is  what  you  are  referring  to,  but  I  am  try- 
ing to  do  what  I  can  for  you  and  for  your  wife." 

"My  wife?' 

"She  is  waiting  for  you,"  said  the  other. 

He  turned  his  head,  listening. 

Across  the  moor  came  the  dull  sullen  boom  of 
a  gun. 

"You  haven't  time  for  argument.  They  dis- 
covered your  escape,"  he  said.     "Get  in." 

John  clambered  up  into  the  frail  body  of  the 
machine  and  Kara  followed. 

"This  is  a  self-starter,"  he  said,  "one  of  the 
newest  models  of  monoplanes." 

He  clicked  over  a  lever  and  with  a  roar  the  big 
three-bladed  tractor  screw  spun. 

The  aeroplane  moved  forward  with  a  jerk,  ran 
96 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

^with  increasing  gait  for  a  hundred  yards,  and  then 
suddenly  the  jerky  progress  ceased.  The  machine 
swayed  gently  from  side  to  side,  and  looking  over, 
the  passenger  saw  the  ground  recede  beneath  him. 

Up,  up,  they  climbed  in  one  long  sweeping 
ascent,  passing  through  drifting  clouds  till  the 
machine  soared  like  a  bird  above  the  blue  sea. 

John  Lexman  looked  down.  He  saw  the  in- 
dentations of  the  coast  and  recognized  the  fringe 
of  white  houses  that  stood  for  Torquay,  but  in  an 
incredibly  short  space  of  time  all  signs  of  the  land 
were  blotted  out. 

Talking  was  impossible.  The  roar  of  the  en- 
gines defied  penetration. 

Kara  was  evidently  a  skilful  pilot.  From  time 
to  time  he  consulted  the  compass  on  the  board  be- 
fore him,  and  changed  his  course  ever  so  slightly. 
Presently  he  released  one  hand  from  the  driving 
wheel,  and  scribbling  on  a  little  block  of  paper 
which  was  inserted  in  a  pocket  at  the  side  of  the 
seat  he  passed  it  back. 

John  Lexman  read : 

96 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"If  you  cannot  swim  there  is  a  life  belt  under  your 
seat." 

John  nodded. 

Kara  was  searching  the  sea  for  something,  and 
presently  he  found  it.  Viewed  from  the  height 
at  which  they  flew  it  looked  no  more  than  a  white 
speck  in  a  great  blue  saucer,  but  presently  the  ma- 
chine began  to  dip,  falling  at  a  terrific  rate  of 
speed,  which  took  away  the  breath  of  the  man 
who  was  hanging  on  with  both  hands  to  the  dan- 
gerous seat  behind. 

He  was  deadly  cold,  but  had  hardly  noticed  the 
fact.  It  was  all  so  incredible,  so  impossible.  He 
expected  to  wake  up  and  wondered  if  the  prison 
was  also  part  of  the  dream. 

Now  he  saw  the  point  for  which  Kara  was 
making. 

A  white  steam  yacht,  long  and  narrow  of  beam, 
was  steaming  slowly  westward.  He  could  see  the 
feathery  wake  in  her  rear,  and  as  the  aeroplane 
fell  he  had  time  to  observe  that  a  boat  had  been 
put  off.     Then  with  a  jerk  the  monoplane  flat- 

97 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

tened  out  and  came  like  a  skimming  bird  to  the 
surface  of  the  water;  her  engines  stopped. 

"We  ought  to  be  able  to  keep  afloat  for  ten 
minutes,"  said  Kara,  "and  by  that  time  they  will 
pick  us  up.'* 

His  voice  was  high  and  harsh  in  the  almost 
painful  silence  which  followed  the  stoppage  of 
the  engines. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  the  boat  had  come 
alongside,  manned,  as  Lexman  gathered  from  a 
glimpse  of  the  crew,  by  Greeks.  He  scrambled 
aboard  and  five  minutes  later  he  was  standing  on 
the  white  deck  of  the  yacht,  watching  the  disap- 
pearing tail  of  the  monoplane.  Kara  was  by  his 
side. 

"There  goes  fifteen  hundred  pounds,"  said  the 
Greek,  with  a  smile,  "add  that  to  the  two  thou- 
sand I  paid  the  warder  and  you  have  a  tidy  sum — 
but  some  things  are  worth  all  the  money  in  the 
world!" 


98 


CHAPTER  VII 

T.  X.  CAME  from  Downing  Street  at  ll  o'clock 
one  night,  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  joy  and 
gratitude. 

He  swung  his  stick  to  the  common  danger  of 
the  public,  but  the  policeman  on  point  duty  at 
the  end  of  the  street,  who  saw  him,  recognized  and 
saluted  him,  did  not  think  it  fit  to  issue  any  of- 
ficial warning. 

He  ran  up  the  stairs  to  his  office,  and  found 
Mansus  reading  the  evening  paper. 

"My  poor,  dumb  beast,"  said  T.  X.  "I  am 
afraid  I  have  kept  you  waiting  for  a  very  long 
time,  but  to-morrow  you  and  I  will  take  a  little 
journey  to  Devonshire.  It  will  be  good  for  you, 
Mansus — where  did  you  get  that  ridiculous  name, 
by  the  way?" 

"M.  or  N.,"  replied  Mansus,  laconically. 

"I  repeat  that  there  is  the  dawn  of  an  intellect 
in  you,"  said  T.  X.,  offensively. 

99 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  became  more  serious  as  he  took  from  a  pocket 
inside  his  waistcoat  a  long  blue  envelope  contain- 
ing the  paper  which  had  cost  him  so  much  to  se- 
cure. 

"Finding  the  revolver  was  a  master-stroke  of 
yours,  Mansus,"  he  said,  and  he  was  in  earnest  as 
he  spoke. 

The  man  coloured  with  pleasure  for  the  subor- 
dinates of  T.  X.  loved  him,  and  a  word  of  praise 
was  almost  equal  to  promotion.  It  was  on  the 
advice  of  Mansus  that  the  road  from  London  to 
Lewes  had  been  carefully  covered  and  such 
streams  as  passed  beneath  that  road  had  been 
searched. 

The  revolver  had  been  found  after  the  third  at- 
tempt between  Gatwick  and  Horsley.  Its  iden- 
tification was  made  easier  by  the  fact  that  Vas- 
salaro's  name  was  engraved  on  the  butt.  It  was 
rather  an  ornate  affair  and  in  its  earlier  days  had 
been  silver  plated;  the  handle  was  of  mother-o'- 
pearl. 

"Obviously  the  gift  of  one  brigand  to  another," 
was  T.  X.'s  comment. 

100 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Armed  with  this,  his  task  would  have  been 
fairly  easy,  but  when  to  this  evidence  he  added 
a  rough  draft  of  the  threatening  letter  which  he 
had  found  amongst  Vassal aro's  belongings,  and 
which  had  evidently  been  taken  down  at  dictation, 
since  some  of  the  words  were  misspelt  and  had 
been  corrected  by  another  hand,  the  case  was  com- 
plete. 

But  what  clinched  the  matter  was  the  finding 
of  a  wad  of  that  peculiar  chemical  paper,  a  num- 
ber of  sheets  of  which  T.  X.  had  ignited  for  the 
information  of  the  Chief  Commissioner  and  the 
Home  Secretary  by  simply  exposing  them  for  a 
few  seconds  to  the  light  of  an  electric  lamp. 

Instantly  it  had  filled  the  Home  Secretary's  of- 
fice with  a  pungent  and  most  disagreeable  smoke, 
for  which  he  was  heartily  cursed  by  his  superiofJ. 
But  it  had  rounded  off  the  argument. 

He  looked  at  his  watch. 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  too  late  to  see  Mrs.  Lexman," 
he  said. 

"I  don't  think  any  hour  would  be  too  late,"  sug- 
gested Mansus. 

101 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  shall  come  and  chaperon  me,"  said  his 
superior. 

But  a  disappointment  awaited.  Mrs.  Lexman 
was  not  in  and  neither  the  ringing  at  her  electric 
bell  nor  vigorous  applications  to  the  knocker 
brought  any  response.  The  hall  porter  of  the 
flats  where  she  lived  was  under  the  impression  that 
Mrs.  Lexman  had  gone  out  of  town.  She  fre- 
quently went  out  on  Saturdays  and  returned  on 
the  Monday  and,  he  thought,  occasionally  on 
Tuesdays. 

It  happened  that  this  particular  night  was  a 
Monday  night  and  T.  X.  was  faced  with  a  di- 
lemma. The  night  porter,  who  had  only  the 
vaguest  information  on  the  subject,  thought  that 
the  day  porter  might  know  more,  and  aroused  him 
from  his  sleep. 

Yes,  Mrs.  Lexman  had  gone.  She  went  on  the 
Sunday,  an  unusual  day  to  pay  a  week-end  visit, 
and  she  had  taken  with  her  two  bags.  The  porter 
ventured  the  opinion  that  she  was  rather  excited, 
but  when  asked  to  define  the  symptoms  relapsed 

102 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

into  a  chaos  of  incoherent  "you-knows"  and 
"what-I-means." 

"I  don't  like  this,"  said  T.  X.,  suddenly. 
"Does  anybody  know  that  we  have  made  these 
discoveries^" 

"Nobody  outside  the  office,"  said  Mansus,  "un- 
less, unless  .  .  ." 

"Unless  what*?"  asked  the  other,  irritably. 
"Don't  be  a  jimp,  Mansus.  Get  it  off  your  mind. 
What  is  it?" 

"I  am  wondering,"  said  Mansus  slowly,  "if  the 
landlord  at  Great  James  Street  said  anything. 
He  knows  we  have  made  a  search." 

"We  can  easily  find  that  out,"  said  T.  X. 

They  hailed  a  taxi  and  drove  to  Great  James 
Street.  That  respectable  thoroughfare  was 
wrapped  in  sleep  and  it  was  some  time  before  the 
landlord  could  be  aroused.  Recognizing  T.  X. 
he  checked  his  sarcasm,  which  he  had  prepared  for 
a  keyless  lodger,  and  led  the  way  into  the  drawing 
room. 

"You  didn't  tell  me  not  to  speak  about  it,  Mr. 
103 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Meredith,"  he  said,  in  an  aggrieved  tone,  "and  as 
a  matter  of  fact  I  have  spoken  to  nobody  except 
the  gentleman  who  called  the  same  day." 

"What  did  he  want^"  asked  T.  X. 

"He  said  he  had  only  just  discovered  that  Mr. 
Vassalaro  had  stayed  with  me  and  he  wanted  to 
pay  whatever  rent  was  due,"  replied  the  other. 

"What  like  of  man  was  he'?"  asked  T.  X. 

The  brief  description  the  man  gave  sent  a  cold 
chill  to  the  Commissioner's  heart. 

"Kara  for  a  ducat  I"  he  said,  and  swore  long 
and  variously. 

"Cadogan  Square,"  he  ordered. 

His  ring  was  answered  promptly.  Mr.  Kara 
was  out  of  town,  had  indeed  been  out  of  town 
since  Saturday.  This  much  the  man-servant  ex- 
plained with  a  suspicious  eye  upon  his  visitors,  re- 
membering that  his  predecessor  had  lost  his  job 
from  a  too  confiding  friendliness  with  spurious 
electric  fitters.  He  did  not  know  when  Mr.  Kara 
would  return,  perhaps  it  would  be  a  long  time  and 
perhaps  a  short  time.  He  might  come  back  that 
night  or  he  might  not. 

104 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  are  wasting  your  young  life,"  said  T.  X. 
bitterly.     "You  ought  to  be  a  fortune  teller." 

"This  settles  the  matter,"  he  said,  in  the  cab 
on  the  way  back.  "Find  out  the  first  train  for 
Tavistock  in  the  morning  and  wire  the  George 
Hotel  to  have  a  car  waiting." 

"Why  not  go  to-night'?"  suggested  the  other. 
"There  is  the  midnight  train.  It  is  rather  slow, 
but  it  will  get  you  there  by  six  or  seven  in  the 
morning." 

"Too  late,"  he  said,  "unless  you  can  invent  a 
method  of  getting  from  here  to  Faddington  in 
about  fifty  seconds." 

The  morning  journey  to  Devonshire  was  a  dis- 
piriting one  despite  the  fineness  of  the  day.  T.  X. 
had  an  uncomfortable  sense  that  something  dis- 
tressing had  happened.  The  run  across  the  moor 
in  the  fresh  spring  air  revived  him  a  little. 

As  they  spun  down  to  the  valley  of  the  Dart, 
Mansus  touched  his  arm. 

"Look  at  that,"  he  said,  and  pointed  to  the 
blue  heavens  where,  a  mile  above  their  heads,  a 
white-winged  aeroplane,  looking  no  larger  than  a 

105 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

very  distant  dragon  fly,  shimmered  in  the  sunlight. 

"By  Jove  I"  said  T.  X.  "What  an  excellent 
way  for  a  man  to  escape  I" 

"It's  about  the  only  way,"  said  Mansus. 

The  significance  of  the  aeroplane  was  borne  in 
upon  T.  X.  a  few  minutes  later  when  he  was  held 
up  by  an  armed  guard.  A  glance  at  his  card  was 
enough  to  pass  him. 

"What  is  the  matter^"  he  asked. 

"A  prisoner  has  escaped,"  said  the  sentry. 

"Escaped — ^by  aeroplane?"  asked  T.  X. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  aeroplanes,  sir. 
All  I  know  is  that  one  of  the  working  party  got 
away." 

The  car  came  to  the  gates  of  the  prison  and 
T.  X.  sprang  out,  followed  by  his  assistant.  He 
had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  Governor,  a  greatly 
perturbed  man,  for  an  escape  is  a  very  serious 
matter. 

The  official  was  inclined  to  be  brusque  in  his 
manner,  but  again  the  ma^c  card  produced  a 
soothing  effect. 

"I  am  rather  rattled,"  said  the  Governor. 
106 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"One  of  my  men  has  got  away.  I  suppose  you 
know  that?" 

"And  I  am  afraid  another  of  your  men  is  going 
away,  sir,"  said  T.  X.,  who  had  a  curious  rever- 
ence for  military  authority.  He  produced  his 
paper  and  laid  it  on  the  governor's  table. 

"This  is  an  order  for  the  release  of  John  Lex- 
man,  convicted  under  sentence  of  fifteen  years 
penal  servitude." 

The  Governor  looked  at  it. 

"Dated  last  night,"  he  said,  and  breathed  a 
long  sigh  of  relief.  "Thank  the  Lord! — that  is 
the  man  who  escaped  I" 


107 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Two  years  after  the  events  just  described,  T.  X. 
journeying  up  to  London  from  Bath  was  attracted 
by  a  paragraph  in  the  Morning  Post.  It  told  him 
briefly  that  Mr.  Remington  Kara,  the  influential 
leader  of  the  Greek  Colony,  had  been  the  guest 
of  honor  at  a  dinner  of  the  Hellenic  Society. 

T.  X.  had  only  seen  Kara  for  a  brief  space  of 
time  following  that  tragic  morning,  when  he  had 
discovered  not  only  that  his  best  friend  had  es- 
caped from  Dartmoor  prison  and  disappeared,  as 
it  were,  from  the  world  at  a  moment  when  his 
pardon  had  been  signed,  but  that  that  friend's 
wife  had  also  vanished  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

At  the  same  time — it  might,  as  even  T.  X.  ad- 
mitted, have  been  the  veriest  coincidence  that 
Kara  had  also  cleared  out  of  London  to  reappear 
at  the  end  of  six  months.     Any  question  addressed 

108 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

to  him,  concerning  the  whereabouts  of  the  two  un- 
happy people,  was  met  with  a  bland  expression 
of  ignorance  as  to  their  whereabouts, 

John  Lexman  was  somewhere  in  the  world, 
hiding  as  he  believed  from  justice,  and  with  him 
was  his  wife.  T.  X.  had  no  doubt  in  his  mind 
as  to  this  solution  of  the  puzzle.  He  had  caused 
to  be  published  the  story  of  the  pardon  and  the 
circumstances  under  which  that  pardon  had  been 
secured,  and  he  had,  moreover,  arranged  for  an 
advertisement  to  be  inserted  in  the  principal  pa- 
pers of  every  European  country. 

It  was  a  moot  question  amongst  the  departmen- 
tal lawyers  as  to  whether  John  Lexman  was  not 
guilty  of  a  technical  and  punishable  offence  for 
prison  breaking,  but  this  possibility  did  not  keep 
T.  X.  awake  at  nights.  The  circumstances  of  the 
escape  had  been  carefully  examined.  The  warder 
responsible  had  been  discharged  from  the  service, 
and  had  almost  immediately  purchased  for  him- 
self a  beer  house  in  Falmouth,  for  a  sum  which 
left  no  doubt  in  the  official  mind  that  he  had 
been  the  recipient  of  a  heavy  bribe. 

109 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Who  had  been  the  guiding  spirit  in  that  es- 
cape— Mrs.  Lexman,  or  Kara'? 

It  was  impossible  to  connect  Kara  with  the 
event.  The  motor  car  had  been  traced  to  Exeter, 
where  it  had  been  hired  by  a  "foreign-looking 
gentleman,"  but  the  chauffeur,  whoever  he  was, 
had  made  good  his  escape.  An  inspection  of 
Kara's  hangars  at  Wembley  showed  that  his  two 
monoplanes  had  not  been  removed,  and  T.  X. 
failed  entirely  to  trace  the  owner  of  the  machine 
he  had  seen  flying  over  Dartmoor  on  the  fatal 
morning. 

T.  X.  was  somewhat  baffled  and  a  little  amused 
by  the  disinclination  of  the  authorities  to  believe 
that  the  escape  had  been  effected  by  this  method 
at  all.  All  the  events  of  the  trial  came  back  to 
him,  as  he  watched  the  landscape  spinning  past. 

He  set  down  the  newspaper  with  a  little  sigh, 
put  his  feet  on  the  cushions  of  the  opposite  seat 
and  gave  himself  up  to  reverie.  Presently  he  re- 
turned to  his  journals  and  searched  them  idly  for 
something  to  interest  him  in  the  final  stretch  of 
journey  between  Newbury  and  Paddington. 

110 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Presently  he  found  it  in  a  two  column  article 
with  the  uninspiring  title,  "The  Mineral  Wealth 
of  Tierra  del  Fuego."  It  was  written  brightly 
with  a  style  which  was  at  once  easy  and  informa- 
tive. It  told  of  adventures  in  the  marshes  behind 
St.  Sebastian  Bay  and  journeys  up  the  Guarez  Cel- 
man  river,  of  nights  spent  in  primeval  forests  and 
ended  in  a  geological  survey,  wherein  the  commer- 
cial value  of  syenite,  porphyry,  trachite  and  dia- 
lite  were  severally  canvassed. 

The  article  was  signed  "G.  G."  It  is  said  of 
T.  X.  that  his  greatest  virtue  was  his  curiosity. 
He  had  at  the  tip  of  his  fingers  the  names  of  all 
the  big  explorers  and  author-travellers,  and  for 
some  reason  he  could  not  place  "G.  G."  to  his 
satisfaction,  in  fact  he  had  an  absurd  desire  to 
interpret  the  initials  into  "George  Grossmith." 
His  inability  to  identify  the  writer  irritated  him, 
and  his  first  act  on  reaching  his  office  was  to  tele- 
phone to  one  of  the  literary  editors  of  the  Times 
whom  he  knew. 

"Not  my  department,"  was  the  chilly  reply, 
"and  besides  we  never  give  away  the  names  of  our 

111 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

contributors.  Speaking  as  a  person  outside  the 
office  I  should  say  that  "G.  G."  was  'George  Gath- 
ercole' — the  explorer  you  know,  the  fellow  who 
had  an  arm  chewed  off  by  a  lion  or  something." 

"George  Gathercolel"  repeated  T.  X.  "What 
an  ass  I  am." 

"Yes,"  said  the  voice  at  the  other  end  of  the 
wire,  and  he  had  rung  off  before  T.  X.  could 
think  of  something  suitable  to  say. 

Having  elucidated  this  little  side-line  of  mys- 
tery, the  matter  passed  from  the  young  Commis- 
sioner's mind.  It  happened  that  morning  that 
his  work  consisted  of  dealing  with  John  Lexman's 
estate. 

With  the  disappearance  of  the  couple  he  had 
taken  over  control  of  their  belongings.  It  had 
not  embarrassed  him  to  discover  that  he  was  an 
executor  under  Lexman's  will,  for  he  had  already 
acted  as  trustee  to  the  wife's  small  estate,  and 
had  been  one  of  the  parties  to  the  ante-nuptial  con- 
tract which  John  Lexman  had  made  before  his 
marriage. 

The  estate  revenues  had  increased  very  consid- 
112 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

erably.  All  the  vanished  author's  books  were  sell- 
ing as  they  had  never  sold  before,  and  the  execu- 
tor's work  was  made  the  heavier  by  the  fact  that 
Grace  Lexman  had  possessed  an  aunt  who  had 
most  inconsiderately  died,  leaving  a  considerable 
fortune  to  her  "unhappy  niece." 

"I  will  keep  the  trusteeship  another  year,"  he 
told  the  solicitor  who  came  to  consult  him  that 
morning.  "At  the  end  of  that  time  I  shall  go  to 
the  court  for  relief." 

"Do  you  think  they  will  ever  turn  up*?"  asked 
the  solicitor,  an  elderly  and  unimaginative  man. 

"Of  course,  they'll  turn  up!"  said  T.  X.  im- 
patiently; "all  the  heroes  of  Lexman's  books  turn 
up  sooner  or  later.  He  will  discover  himself  to 
us  at  a  suitable  moment,  and  we  shall  be  properly 
thrilled." 

That  Lexman  would  return  he  was  sure.  It 
was  a  faith  from  which  he  did  not  swerve. 

He  had  as  implicit  a  confidence  that  one  day 
or  other  Kara,  the  magnificent,  would  play  into 
his  hands. 

There  were  some  queer  stories  in  circulation  con- 
113 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

cerning  the  Greek,  but  on  the  whole  they  were 
stories  and  rumours  which  were  difficult  to  sepa- 
rate from  the  malicious  gossip  which  invari- 
ably attaches  itself  to  the  rich  and  to  the  success^ 
ful. 

One  of  these  was  that  Kara  desired  something 
more  than  an  Albanian  chieftainship,  which  he  un- 
doubtedly enjoyed.  There  were  whispers  of 
wider  and  higher  ambitions.  Though  his  father 
had  been  born  a  Greek,  he  had  indubitably  de- 
scended in  a  direct  line  from  one  of  those  old 
Mprets  of  Albania,  who  had  exercised  their  brief 
authority  over  that  turbulent  land. 

The  man's  passion  was  for  power.  To  this  end 
he  did  not  spare  himself.  It  was  said  that  he 
utilized  his  vast  wealth  for  this  reason,  and  none 
other,  and  that  whatever  might  have  been  the  ir- 
regularities of  his  youth — and  there  were  adduced 
concrete  instances — he  was  working  toward  an  end 
with  a  singleness  of  purpose,  from  which  it  was 
difficult  to  withhold  admiration. 

T.  X.  kept  in  his  locked  desk  a  little  red  book, 
steel  bound  and  triple  locked,  which  he  called  his 

114 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Scandalaria."  In  this  he  inscribed  in  his  own 
irregular  writing  the  titbits  which  might  not  be 
published,  and  which  often  helped  an  investigator 
to  light  upon  the  missing  threads  of  a  problem. 
In  truth  he  scorned  no  source  of  information,  and 
was  wholly  conscienceless  in  the  compilation  of 
this  somewhat  chaotic  record. 

The  affairs  of  John  Lexman  recalled  Kara,  and 
Kara's  great  reception.  Mansus  would  have  made 
arrangements  to  secure  a  verbatim  report  of  the 
speeches  which  were  made,  and  these  would  be  in 
his  hands  by  the  night.  Mansus  did  not  tell  him 
that  Kara  was  financing  some  very  influential  peo- 
ple indeed,  that  a  certain  Under-secretary  of  State 
with  a  great  number  of  very  influential  relations 
had  been  saved  from  bankruptcy  by  the  timely 
advances  which  Kara  had  made.  This  T.  X. 
had  obtained  through  sources  which  might  be 
hastily  described  as  discreditable.  Mansus  knew 
of  the  baccarat  establishment  in  Albemarle 
Street,  but  he  did  not  know  that  the  neurotic  wife 
of  a  very  great  man  indeed,  no  less  than  the  Min- 
ister of  Justice,  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  that  es- 

115 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

tablishment,  and  that  she  had  lost  in  one  night 
some  £6,000.  In  these  circumstances  it  was  re- 
markable, thought  T.  X.,  that  she  should  report 
to  the  police  so  small  a  matter  as  the  petty  pilfer- 
ing of  servants.  This,  however,  she  had  done  and 
whilst  the  lesser  officers  of  Scotland  Yard  were 
interrogating  pawnbrokers,  the  men  higher  up 
were  genuinely  worried  by  the  lady's  own  lapses 
from  grace. 

It  was  all  sordid  but,  unfortunately,  conven- 
tional, because  highly  placed  people  will  always 
do  underbred  things,  where  money  or  women  are 
concerned,  but  it  was  necessary,  for  the  proper  con- 
duct of  the  department  which  T.  X.  directed,  that, 
however  sordid  and  however  conventional  might 
be  the  errors  which  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  com- 
mitted, they  should  be  filed  for  reference. 

The  motto  which  T.  X.  went  upon  in  life  was, 
"You  never  know." 

The  Minister  of  Justice  was  a  very  important 
person,  for  he  was  a  personal  friend  of  half  the 
monarchs  of  Europe.  A  poor  man,  with  two  or 
three  thousand  a  year  of  his  own,  with  no  very 

116 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

definite  political  views  and  uncommitted  to  the 
more  violent  policies  of  either  party,  he  succeeded 
in  serving  both,  with  profit  to  himself,  and  with- 
out earning  the  obloquy  of  either.  Though  he 
did  not  pursue  the  blatant  policy  of  the  Vicar  of 
Bray,  yet  it  is  a  fact  which  may  be  confirmed  from 
the  reader's  own  knowledge,  that  he  served  in  four 
different  administrations,  drawing  the  pay  and 
emoluments  of  his  office  from  each,  though  the 
fundamental  policies  of  those  four  governments 
were  distinct. 

Lady  Bartholomew,  the  wife  of  this  adaptable 
Minister,  had  recently  departed  for  San  Remo. 
The  newspapers  announced  the  fact  and  spoke 
vaguely  of  a  breakdown  which  prevented  the  lady 
from  fulfilling  her  social  engagements. 

T.  X.,  ever  a  Doubting  Thomas,  could  trace  no 
visit  of  nerve  specialist,  nor  yet  of  the  family 
practitioner,  to  the  official  residence  in  Downing 
Street,  and  therefore  he  drew  conclusions.  In  his 
own  "Who's  Who"  T.  X.  noted  the  hobbies  of  his 
victims  which,  by  the  way,  did  not  always  coin- 
cide with  the  innocent  occupations  set  against  their 

117 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

names  in  the  more  pretentious  volume.  Their 
follies  and  their  weaknesses  found  a  place  and 
were  recorded  at  a  length  (as  it  might  seem  to  the 
uninformed  observer)  beyond  the  limit  which 
charity  allowed. 

Lady  Mary  Bartholomew's  name  appeared  not 
once,  but  many  times,  in  the  erratic  records  which 
T.  X.  kept.  There  was  a  plain  matter-of-fact 
and  wholly  unobjectionable  statement  that  she  was 
born  in  1874,  ^^^  ^^^  was  the  seventh  daughter 
of  the  Earl  of  Balmorey,  that  she  had  one  daugh- 
ter who  rejoiced  in  the  somewhat  unpromising 
name  of  Belinda  Mary,  and  such  further  informa- 
tion as  a  man  might  get  without  going  to  a  great 
deal  of  trouble. 

T.  X.,  refreshing  his  memory  from  the  little 
red  book,  wondered  what  unexpected  tragedy  had 
sent  Lady  Bartholomew  out  of  London  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  season.  The  information  was  that  the 
lady  was  fairly  well  off  at  this  moment,  and  this 
fact  made  matters  all  the  more  puzzling  and  al- 
most induced  him  to  believe  that,  after  all,  the 
story  was  true,  and  a  nervous  breakdown  really 

118 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

was  the  cause  of  her  sudden  departure.  He  sent 
for  Mansus. 

"You  saw  Lady  Bartholomew  off  at  Charing 
Cross,  I  suppose?" 

Mansus  nodded. 

"She  went  alone?' 

"She  took  her  maid,  but  otherwise  she  was 
alone.     I  thought  she  looked  ill." 

"She  has  been  looking  ill  for  months  past,"  said 
T.  X.>  without  any  visible  expression  of  sym- 
pathy. 

"Did  she  take  Belinda  Mary?' 

Mansus  was  puzzled.  "Belinda  Mary*?"  he  re- 
peated slowly.  "Oh,  you  mean  the  daughter. 
No,  she's  at  a  school  somewhere  in  France." 

T.  X.  whistled  a  snatch  of  a  popular  song, 
closed  the  little  red  book  with  a  snap  and  replaced 
it  in  his  desk. 

"I  wonder  where  on  earth  people  dig  up  names 
like  Belinda  Mary?"  he  mused.  "Belinda  Mary 
must  be  rather  a  weird  little  animal — the  Lord 
forgive  me  for  speaking  so  about  my  betters  I — 
If  heredity  counts  for  anything  she  ought  to  be 

U9 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

something  between  a  head  waiter  and  a  pack  of 
cards.     Have  you  lost  anything*?" 

Mansus  was  searching  his  pockets. 

"I  made  a  few  notes,  some  questions  I  wanted 
to  ask  you  about — and  Lady  Bartholomew  was 
the  subject  of  one  of  them.  I  have  had  her  un- 
der observation  for  six  months;  do  you  want  it 
kept  up?" 

T.  X.  thought  awhile,  then  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  only  interested  in  Lady  Bartholomew  in 
so  far  as  Kara  is  interested  in  her.  There  is  a 
criminal  for  you,  my  friend  I"  he  added,  admir- 
ingly. 

Mansus  busily  engaged  in  going  through  the 
bundles  of  letters,  slips  of  paper  and  little  note- 
books he  had  taken  from  his  pocket,  sniffed 
audibly. 

"Have  you  a  cold?"  asked  T.  X.  politely. 

*'No,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "only  I  haven't  much 
opinion  of  Kara  as  a  criminal.  Besides,  what  has 
he  got  to  be  a  criminal  about?  He  has  all  that 
he  requires  in  the  money  department,  he's  one  of 
the  most  popular  people  in  London,  and  certainly 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

one  of  the  best-looking  men  I've  ever  seen  in  my 
life.     He  needs  nothing." 

T.  X.  regarded  him  scornfully. 

"You're  a  poor  blind  brute,"  he  said,  shaking 
his  head;  "don't  you  know  that  great  criminals 
are  never  influenced  by  material  desires,  or  by  the 
prospect  of  concrete  gains'?  The  man,  who  robs 
his  employer's  till  in  order  to  give  the  girl  of  his 
heart  the  25-pearl  and  ruby  brooch  her  soul  de- 
sires, gains  nothing  but  the  glow  of  satisfaction 
which  comes  to  the  man  who  is  thought  well  of. 
The  majority  of  crimes  in  the  world  are  com- 
mitted by  people  for  the  same  reason — they  want 
to  be  thought  well  of.  Here  is  Doctor  X.  who 
murdered  his  wife  because  she  was  a  drunkard 
and  a  slut,  and  he  dared  not  leave  her  for  fear  the 
neighbours  would  have  doubts  as  to  his  respecta- 
bility. Here  is  another  gentleman  who  murders 
his  wives  in  their  baths  in  order  that  he  should 
keep  up  some  sort  of  position  and  earn  the  respect 
of  his  friends  and  his  associates.  Nothing  roused 
him  more  quickly  to  a  frenzy  of  passion  than  the 
suggestion  that  he  was  not  respectable.     Here  is 

121 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  great  financier,  who  has  embezzled  a  million 
and  a  quarter,  not  because  he  needed  money,  but 
because  people  looked  up  to  him.  Therefore,  he 
must  build  great  mansions,  submarine  pleasure 
courts  and  must  lay  out  huge  estates — because  he 
wished  that  he  should  be  thought  well  of." 

Mansus  sniffed  again. 

"What  about  the  man  who  half  murders  his 
wife,  does  he  do  that  to  be  well  thought  oif  he 
asked,  with  a  tinge  of  sarcasm. 

T.  X.  looked  at  him  pityingly. 

"The  low-brow  who  beats  his  wife,  my  poor 
Mansus,"  he  said,  "does  so  because  she  doesn't 
think  well  of  him!  That  is  our  ruling  passion, 
our  national  characteristic,  the  primary  cause  of 
most  crimes,  big  or  little.  That  is  why  Kara  is  a 
bad  criminal  and  will,  as  I  say,  end  his  life  very 
violently." 

He  took  down  his  glossy  silk  hat  from  the  peg 
and  slipped  into  his  overcoat. 

"I  am  going  down  to  see  my  friend  Kara,"  he 
said.  "I  have  a  feeling  that  I  should  like  to  talk 
with  him.     He  might  tell  me  something." 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

His  acquaintance  with  Kara's  menage  had  been 
mere  hearsay.  He  had  interviewed  the  Greek 
once  after  his  return,  but  since  all  his  efforts  to 
secure  information  concerning  the  whereabouts  of 
John  Lexman  and  his  wife — the  main  reason  for 
his  visit — had  been  in  vain,  he  had  not  repeated 
his  visit. 

The  house  in  Cadogan  Square  was  a  large  one, 
occupying  a  corner  site.  It  was  peculiarly  Eng- 
lish in  appearance  with  its  window  boxes,  its  dis- 
creet curtains,  its  polished  brass  and  enamelled 
doorway.  It  had  been  the  town  house  of  Lord 
Henry  Gratham,  that  eccentric  connoisseur  of 
wine  and  follower  of  witless  pleasure.  It  had 
been  built  by  him  "round  a  bottle  of  port,"  as  his 
friends  said,  meaning  thereby  that  his  first  con- 
sideration had  been  the  cellarage  of  the  house,  and 
that  when  those  cellars  had  been  built  and  provi- 
sion made  for  the  safe  storage  of  his  priceless 
wines,  the  house  had  been  built  without  the  archi- 
tect's being  greatly  troubled  by  his  lordship.  The 
double  cellars  of  Gratham  House  had,  in  their 
time,  been  one  of  the  sights  of  London.     When 

12S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Henry  Gratham  lay  under  eight  feet  of  Congo 
earth  (he  was  killed  by  an  elephant  whilst  on  a 
hunting  trip)  his  executors  had  been  singularly 
fortunate  in  finding  an  immediate  purchaser.  Ru- 
mour had  it  that  Kara,  who  was  no  lover  of  wine, 
had  bricked  up  the  cellars,  and  their  very  exist- 
ence passed  into  domestic  legendary. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  well-dressed  and 
deferential  man-servant  and  T.  X.  was  ushered 
into  the  hall.  A  fire  burnt  cheerily  in  a  bronze 
grate  and  T.  X.  had  a  glimpse  of  a  big  oil  paint- 
ing of  Kara  above  the  marble  mantle-piece. 

"Mr.  Kara  is  very  busy,  sir,"  said  the  man. 

"Just  take  in  my  card,"  said  T.  X.  "I  think 
he  may  care  to  see  me." 

The  man  bowed,  produced  from  some  mysteri- 
ous corner  a  silver  salver  and  glided  upstairs  in 
that  manner  which  well-trained  servants  have,  a 
manner  which  seems  to  call  for  no  bodily  effort. 
In  a  minute  he  returned. 

"Will  you  come  this  way,  sir?"  he  said,  and  led 
the  way  up  a  broad  flight  of  stairs. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  was  a  corridor  which 
124 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ran  to  the  left  and  to  the  right.  From  this  there 
gave  four  rooms.  One  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
passage  on  the  right,  one  on  the  left,  and  two  at 
fairly  regular  intervals  in  the  centre. 

When  the  man's  hand  was  on  one  of  the  doors, 
T.  X.  asked  quietly,  "I  think  I  have  seen  you  be- 
fore somewhere,  my  friend." 

The  man  smiled. 

"It  is  very  possible,  sir.  I  was  a  waiter  at  the 
Constitutional  for  some  time." 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"That  is  where  it  must  have  been,"  he  said. 

The  man  opened  the  door  and  announced  the 
visitor. 

T.  X.  found  himself  in  a  large  room,  very  hand- 
somely furnished,  but  just  lacking  that  sense  of 
cosiness  and  comfort  which  is  the  feature  of  the 
Englishman's  home. 

Kara  rose  from  behind  a  big  writing  table,  and 
came  with  a  smile  and  a  quick  step  to  greet  the 
visitor. 

"This  is  a  most  unexpected  pleasure,"  he  said, 
and  shook  hands  warmly. 

125 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  had  not  seen  him  for  a  year  and  found 
very  little  change  in  this  strange  young  man.  He 
could  not  be  more  confident  than  he  had  been, 
nor  bear  himself  with  a  more  graceful  carriage. 
Whatever  social  success  he  had  achieved,  it  had 
not  spoiled  him,  for  his  manner  was  as  genial  and 
easy  as  ever. 

"I  think  that  will  do.  Miss  Holland,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  girl  who,  with  notebook  in  hand, 
stood  by  the  desk. 

"Evidently,"  thought  T.  X.,  "our  Hellenic 
friend  has  a  pretty  taste  in  secretaries." 

In  that  one  glance  he  took  her  all  in — from  the 
bronze-brown  of  her  hair  to  her  neat  foot. 

T.  X.  was  not  readily  attracted  by  members  of 
the  opposite  sex.  He  was  self-confessed  a  pre- 
destined bachelor,  finding  life  and  its  incidence  too 
absorbing  to  give  his  whole  mind  to  the  serious 
problem  of  marriage,  or  to  contract  responsibili- 
ties and  interests  which  might  divert  his  attention 
from  what  he  believed  was  the  greater  game. 
Yet  he  must  be  a  man  of  stone  to  resist  the  fresh- 
ness, the  beauty  and  the  youth  of  this  straight, 

126 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

slender  girl;  the  pink-and- whiteness  of  her,  the 
aliveness  and  buoyancy  and  the  thrilling  sense  of 
vitality  she  carried  in  her  very  presence. 

"What  is  the  weirdest  name  you  have  ever 
heard  ^"  asked  Kara  laughingly.  "I  ask  you,  be- 
cause Miss  Holland  and  I  have  been  discussing  a 
begging  letter  addressed  to  us  by  a  Maggie 
Goomer." 

The  girl  smiled  slightly  and  in  that  smile  was 
paradise,  thought  T.  X. 

"The  weirdest  name^"  he  repeated,  "why  I 
think  the  worst  I  have  heard  for  a  long  time  is 
Belinda  Mary." 

"That  has  a  familiar  ring,"  said  Kara. 

T.  X.  was  looking  at  the  girl. 

She  was  staring  at  him  with  a  certain  languid 
insolence  which  made  him  curl  up  inside.  Then 
with  a  glance  at  her  employer  she  swept  from  the 
room. 

"I  ought  to  have  introduced  you,"  said  Kara. 
"That  was  my  secretary.  Miss  Holland.  Rather 
a  pretty  girl,  isn't  she?" 

"Very,"  said  T.  X.,  recovering  his  breath. 
127 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

*T  like  pretty  things  around  me,"  said  Kara, 
and  somehow  the  complacency  of  the  remark  an- 
noyed the  detective  more  than  anything  that  Kara 
had  ever  said  to  him. 

The  Greek  went  to  the  mantlepiece,  and  taking 
down  a  silver  cigarette  box,  opened  and  offered  it 
to  his  visitor.  Kara  was  wearing  a  grey  lounge 
suit,  and  although  grey  is  a  very  trying  colour  for 
a  foreigner  to  wear,  this  suit  fitted  his  splendid 
figure  and  gave  him  just  that  bulk  which  he 
needed. 

"You  are  a  most  suspicious  man,  Mr.  Mere- 
dith," he  smiled. 

"Suspicions'?     I*?"  asked  the  innocent  T.  X. 

Kara  nodded. 

"I  am  sure  you  want  to  enquire  into  the  char- 
acter of  all  my  present  staff.  I  am  perfectly  sat- 
isfied that  you  will  never  be  at  rest  until  you  leam 
the  antecedents  of  my  cook,  my  valet,  my  secre- 
tary— " 

T.  X.  held  up  his  hand  with  a  laugh. 

"Spare  me,"  he  said.  "It  is  one  of  my  failings, 
I  admit,  but  I  have  never  gone  much  farther  into 

128 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

your  domestic  affairs  than  to  pry  into  the  antece- 
dents of  your  very  interesting  chauffeur." 

A  little  cloud  passed  over  Kara's  face,  but  it 
was  only  momentary. 

"Oh,  Brown,"  he  said,  airily,  with  just  a  per- 
ceptible pause  between  the  two  words. 

"It  used  to  be  Smith,"  said  T.  X.,  "but  no  mat- 
ter.    His  name  is  really  Poropulos." 

"Oh,  Poropulos,"  said  Kara  gravely,  "I  dis- 
missed him  a  long  time  ago." 

"Pensioned  him,  too,  I  understand,"  said  T.  X. 

The  other  looked  at  him  awhile,  then,  "I  am 
very  good  to  my  old  servants,"  he  said  slowly  and, 
changing  the  subject,  "to  what  good  fortune  do  I 
owe  this  visit*?" 

T.  X.  selected  a  cigarette  before  he  replied. 

"I  thought  you  might  be  of  some  service  to  me," 
he  said,  apparently  giving  his  whole  attention  to 
the  cigarette. 

"Nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure,"  said 
Kara,  a  little  eagerly.  "I  am  afraid  you  have 
not  been  very  keen  on  continuing  what  I  hoped 
would  have  ripened  into  a  valuable  friendship, 

129 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

more  valuable  to  me  perhaps,"  he  smiled,  "than  to 
you." 

"I  am  a  very  shy  man,"  said  the  shameless  T. 
X.,  "difficult  to  a  fault,  and  rather  apt  to  under- 
rate my  social  attractions.  I  have  come  to  you 
now  because  you  know  everybody — ^by  the  way, 
how  long  have  you  had  your  secretary*?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

Kara  looked  up  at  the  ceiling  for  inspiration. 

"Four,  no  three  months,"  he  corrected,  "a  very 
efficient  young  lady  who  came  to  me  from  one  of 
the  training  establishments.  Somewhat  uncom- 
municative, better  educated  than  most  girls  in  her 
position — for  example,  she  speaks  and  writes  mod- 
ern Greek  fairly  well." 

"A  treasure"?"  suggested  T.  X. 

"Unusually  so,"  said  Kara.  "She  lives  in 
Marylebone  Road,  86a  is  the  address.  She  has 
no  friends,  spends  most  of  her  evenings  in  her 
room,  is  eminently  respectable  and  a  little  chilling 
in  her  attitude  to  her  employer." 

T.  X.  shot  a  swift  glance  at  the  other. 

"Why  do  you  tell  me  all  this*?"  he  asked. 
130 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"To  save  you  the  trouble  of  finding  out,"  re- 
plied the  other  coolly.  "That  insatiable  curiosity 
which  is  one  of  the  equipments  of  your  profession, 
would,  I  feel  sure,  induce  you  to  conduct  investi- 
gations for  your  own  satisfaction.'* 

T.  X.  laughed. 

"May  I  sit  down?"  he  said. 

The  other  wheeled  an  armchair  across  the  room 
and  T.  X.  sank  into  it.  He  leant  back  and 
crossed  his  legs,  and  was,  in  a  second,  the  personi- 
fication of  ease. 

"I  think  you  are  a  very  clever  man,  Monsieur 
Kara,"  he  said. 

The  other  looked  down  at  him  this  time  without 
amusement. 

"Not  so  clever  that  I  can  discover  the  object 
of  your  visit,"  he  said  pleasantly  enough. 

"It  is  very  simply  explained,"  said  T.  X.  "You 
know  everybody  in  town.  You  know,  amongst 
other  people.  Lady  Bartholomew." 

"I  know  the  lady  very  well  indeed,"  said  Kara, 
readily, — too  readily  in  fact,  for  the  rapidity  with 
which  answer  had  followed  question,  suggested  to 

ISl 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  that  Kara  had  anticipated  the  reason  for  the 
call. 

"Have  you  any  idea,"  asked  T.  X.,  speaking 
with  deliberation,  "as  to  why  Lady  Bartholomew 
has  gone  out  of  town  at  this  particular  mo- 
ment'?" 

Kara  laughed. 

"What  an  extraordinary  question  to  ask  me — 
as  though  Lady  Bartholomew  confided  her  plans 
to  one  who  is  little  more  than  a  chance  acquaint- 
ance !" 

"And  yet,"  said  T.  X.,  contemplating  the  burn- 
ing end  of  his  cigarette,  "you  know  her  well 
enough  to  hold  her  promissory  note." 

"Promissory  note*?"  asked  the  other. 

His  tone  was  one  of  involuntary  surprise  and  T. 
X.  swore  softly  to  himself  for  now  he  saw  the 
faintest  shade  of  relief  in  Kara's  face.  The  Com- 
missioner realized  that  he  had  committed  an 
error — he  had  been  far  too  definite. 

"When  I  say  promissory  note,"  he  went  on 
easily,  as  though  he  had  noticed  nothing,  "I  mean, 
of  course,  the  securities  which  the  debtor  invari- 

132 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ably  gives  to  one  from  whom  he  or  she  has  bor- 
rowed large  sums  of  money." 

Kara  made  no  answer,  but  opening  a  drawer  of 
his  desk  he  took  out  a  key  and  brought  it  across  to 
where  T.  X.  was  sitting. 

"Here  is  the  key  of  my  safe,"  he  said  quietly. 
"You  are  at  liberty  to  go  carefully  through  its 
contents  and  discover  for  yourself  any  promissory 
note  which  I  hold  from  Lady  Bartholomew.  My 
dear  fellow,  you  don't  imagine  I'm  a  money- 
lender, do  you?"  he  said  in  an  injured  tone. 

"Nothing  was  further  from  my  thoughts,"  said 
T.  X.,  untruthfully. 

But  the  other  pressed  the  key  upon  him. 

"I  should  be  awfully  glad  if  you  would  look 
for  yourself,"  he  said  earnestly.  "I  feel  that  in 
some  way  you  associate  Lady  Bartholomew's  ill- 
ness with  some  horrible  act  of  usury  on  my  part — 
will  you  satisfy  yourself  and  in  doing  so  satisfy 
me?' 

Now  any  ordinary  man,  and  possibly  any  ordi- 
nary detective,  would  have  made  the  conventional 
answer.     He  would  have  protested  that  he  had  no 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

intention  of  doing  anything  of  the  sort;  he  would 
have  uttered,  if  he  were  a  man  in  the  position 
which  T.  X.  occupied,  the  conventional  statement 
that  he  had  no  authority  to  search  the  private  pa- 
pers, and  that  he  would  certainly  not  avail  himself 
of  the  other's  kindness.  But  T.  X.  was  not  an 
ordinary  person.  He  took  the  key  and  balanced 
it  lightly  in  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

"Is  this  the  key  of  the  famous  bedroom  safe*?" 
he  said  banteringly. 

Kara  was  looking  down  at  him  with  a  quizzical 
smile.  "It  isn't  the  safe  you  opened  in  my  ab- 
sence, on  one  memorable  occasion,  Mr.  Mere- 
dith," he  said.  "As  you  probably  know,  I  have 
changed  that  safe,  but  perhaps  you  don't  feel 
equal  to  the  task?" 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  T.  X.,  calmly,  and  ris- 
ing from  the  chair,  "I  am  going  to  put  your 
good  faith  to  the  test." 

For  answer  Kara  walked  to  the  door  and 
opened  it. 

"Let  me  show  you  the  way,"  he  said  politely. 

He  passed  along  the  corridor  and  entered  the 
134 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

apartment  at  the  end.  The  room  was  a  large  one 
and  lighted  by  one  big  square  window  which  was 
protected  by  steel  bars.  In  the  grate  which  was 
broad  and  high  a  huge  fire  was  burning  and  the 
temperature  of  the  room  was  unpleasantly  close 
despite  the  coldness  of  the  day. 

"That  is  one  of  the  eccentricities  which  you, 
as  an  Englishman,  will  never  excuse  in  me,'*  said 
Kara. 

Near  the  foot  of  the  bed,  let  into,  and  flush 
with,  the  wall,  was  a  big  green  door  of  the  safe. 

"Here  you  are,  Mr.  Meredith,"  said  Kara. 
"All  the  precious  secrets  of  Remington  Kara  are 
yours  for  the  seeking." 

"I  am  afraid  I've  had  my  trouble  for  nothing," 
said  T.  X.,  making  no  attempt  to  use  the  key. 

"That  is  an  opinion  which  I  share,"  said  Kara, 
with  a  smile. 

"Curiously  enough,"  said  T.  X.  "I  mean  just 
what  you  mean." 

He  handed  the  key  to  Kara. 

'^Won't  you  open  it?"  asked  the  Greek. 

T.  X.  shook  his  head. 

135 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"The  safe  as  far  as  I  can  see  is  a  Magnus,  the 
key  which  you  have  been  kind  enough  to  give  me 
is  legibly  inscribed  upon  the  handle  'Chubb.' 
My  experience  as  a  police  officer  has  taught  me 
that  Chubb  keys  very  rarely  open  Magnus  safes." 

Kara  uttered  an  exclamation  of  annoyance. 

"How  stupid  of  me!"  he  said,  "yet  now  I  re- 
member, I  sent  the  key  to  my  bankers,  before  I 
went  out  of  town — I  only  came  back  this  morn- 
ing, you  know.     I  will  send  for  it  at  once." 

"Pray  don't  trouble,"  murmured  T.  X.  po- 
litely. He  took  from  his  pocket  a  little  flat 
leather  case  and  opened  it.  It  contained  a  num- 
ber of  steel  implements  of  curious  shape  which 
were  held  in  position  by  a  leather  loop  along  the 
centre  of  the  case.  From  one  of  these  loops  he 
extracted  a  handle,  and  deftly  fitted  something 
that  looked  like  a  steel  awl  to  the  socket  in  the 
handle.  Looking  in  wonder,  and  with  no  little 
apprehension,  Kara  saw  that  the  awl  was  bent  at 
the  head. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked,  a  little 
alarmed. 

186 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I'll  show  you,"  said  T.  X.  pleasantly. 

Very  gingerly  he  inserted  the  instrument  in  the 
small  keyhole  and  turned  it  cautiously  first  one 
way  and  then  the  other.  There  was  a  sharp  click 
followed  by  another.  He  turned  the  handle  and 
the  door  of  the  safe  swung  open. 

"Simple,  isn't  it?"  he  asked  politely. 

In  that  second  of  time  Kara's  face  had  under- 
gone a  transformation.  The  eyes  which  met  T. 
X.  Meredith's  blazed  with  an  almost  insane  fury. 
With  a  quick  stride  Kara  placed  himself  before 
the  open  safe. 

*T  think  this  has  gone  far  enough,  Mr.  Mere- 
dith," he  said  harshly.  "If  you  wish  to  search 
my  safe  you  must  get  a  warrant." 

T.  X.  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  carefully  un- 
screwing the  instrument  he  had  employed  and  re- 
placing it  in  the  case,  he  returned  it  to  his  inside 
pocket. 

"It  was  at  your  invitation,  my  dear  Monsieur 
Kara,"  he  said  suavely.  "Of  course  I  knew  that 
you  were  putting  a  bluff  up  on  me  with  the  key 
and  that  you  had  no  more  intention  of  letting  me 

137 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

see  the  inside  of  your  safe  than  you  had  of  telling 
me  exactly  what  happened  to  John  Lexman." 

The  shot  went  home. 

The  face  which  was  thrust  into  the  Commis- 
sioner's was  ridged  and  veined  with  passion. 
The  lips  were  turned  back  to  show  the  big  white 
even  teeth,  the  eyes  were  narrowed  to  slits,  the 
jaw  thrust  out,  and  almost  every  semblance  of 
humanity  had  vanished  from  his  face. 

"You — ^you — "  he  hissed,  and  his  clawing 
hands  moved  suspiciously  backward. 

"Put  up  your  hands,"  said  T.  X.  sharply,  "and 
be  damned  quick  about  it!" 

In  a  flash  the  hands  went  up,  for  the  revolver 
which  T.  X.  held  was  pressed  uncomfortably 
against  the  third  button  of  the  Greek's  waist- 
coat. 

"That's  not  the  first  time  you've  been  asked  to 
put  up  your  hands,  I  think,"  said  T.  X.  pleas- 
antly. 

His  own  left  hand  slipped  round  to  Kara's  hip 
pocket.  He  found  something  in  the  shape  of  a 
cylinder  and  drew  it  out  from  the  pocket.     To  his 

138 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

surprise  it  was  not  a  revolver,  not  even  a  knife; 
it  looked  like  a  small  electric  torch,  though  in- 
stead of  a  bulb  and  a  bull's-eye  glass,  there  was  a 
pepper-box  perforation  at  one  end. 

He  handled  it  carefully  and  was  about  to  press 
the  small  nickel  knob  when  a  strangled  cry  of 
horror  broke  from  Kara. 

"For  God's  sake  be  careful  I"  he  gasped. 
"You're  pointing  it  at  me!  Do  not  press  that 
lever,  I  beg  I" 

"Will  it  explode?"  asked  T.  X.  curiously. 

"No,  no!" 

T.  X.  pointed  the  thing  downward  to  the  car- 
pet and  pressed  the  knob  cautiously.  As  he  did 
so  there  was  a  sharp  hiss  and  the  floor  was  stained 
with  the  liquid  which  the  instrument  contained. 
Just  one  gush  of  fluid  and  no  more.  T.  X. 
looked  down.  The  bright  carpet  had  already 
changed  colour,  and  was  smoking.  The  room 
was  filled  with  a  pungent  and  disagreeable  scent. 
T.  X.  looked  from  the  floor  to  the  white-faced 
man. 

"Vitriol,  I  believe,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head 
139 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

admiringly.  "What  a  dear  little  fellow  you 
are!" 

The  man,  big  as  he  was,  was  on  the  point  of  col- 
lapse and  mumbled  something  about  self-defence, 
and  listened  without  a  word,  whilst  T.  X.,  labour- 
ing under  an  emotion  which  was  perfectly  par- 
donable, described  Kara,  his  ancestors  and  the 
possibilities  of  his  future  estate. 

Very  slowly  the  Greek  recovered  his  self-pos- 
session. 

"I  didn't  intend  using  it  on  you,  I  swear  I 
didn't,"  he  pleaded.  "I'm  surrounded  by  enemies, 
Meredith.  I  had  to  carry  some  means  of  protec- 
tion. It  is  because  my  enemies  know  I  carry  this 
that  they  fight  shy  of  me.  I'll  swear  I  had  no 
intention  of  using  it  on  you.  The  idea  is  too  pre- 
posterous. I  am  sorry  I  fooled  you  about  the 
safe." 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  said  T.  X.  "I 
am  afraid  I  did  all  the  fooling.  No,  I  cannot 
let  you  have  this  back  again,"  he  said,  as  the 
Greek  put  out  his  hand  to  take  the  infernal  little 
instrument.     "I  must  take  this  back  to  Scotland 

140 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Yard;  it's  quite  a  long  time  since  we  had  anything 
new  in  this  shape.     Compressed  air,  I  presume." 

Kara  nodded  solemnly. 

"Very  ingenious  indeed,"  said  T.  X.  "If  I  had 
a  brain  like  yours,"  he  paused,  "I  should  do  some- 
thing with  it — with  a  gun,"  he  added,  as  he  passed 
out  of  the  room. 


141 


CHAPTER  IX 

"My  dear  Mr.  Meredith, 

"I  cannot  tell  you  how  unhappy  and  humiliated  I  feel 
that  my  little  joke  with  you  should  have  had  such  an 
uncomfortable  ending.  As  you  know,  and  as  I  have  given 
you  proof,  I  have  the  greatest  admiration  in  the  world 
for  one  whose  work  for  humanity  has  won  such  uni- 
versal recognition. 

"I  hope  that  we  shall  both  forget  this  unhappy  morn- 
ing and  that  you  will  give  me  an  opportunity  of  render- 
ing to  you  in  person,  the  apologies  which  are  due  to  you. 
I  feel  that  anything  less  will  neither  rehabilitate  me  in 
your  esteem,  nor  secure  for  me  the  remnants  of  my  shat- 
tered self-respect. 

"I  am  hoping  you  will  dine  with  me  next  week  and 
meet  a  most  interesting  man,  George  Gathercole,  who 
has  just  returned  from  Patagonia, — I  only  received  his 
letter  this  morning — having  made  most  remarkable  dis- 
coveries concerning  that  country. 

"I  feel  sure  that  you  are  large  enough  minded  and 
too  much  a  man  of  the  world  to  allow  my  foolish  fit  of 
temper  to  disturb  a  relationship  which  I  have  always 
hoped  would  be  mutually  pleasant.  If  you  will  allow 
Gathercole,  who  will  be  unconscious  of  the  part  he  is 
playing,  to  act  as  peacemaker  between  yourself  and  my- 

148 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

self,  I  shall  feel  that  his  trip,  which  has  cost  me  a  large 
sum  of  money,  will  not  have  been  wasted. 
"I  am,  dear  Mr.  Meredith, 

"Yours  very  sincerely, 

"Remington  Kara." 

Kara  folded  the  letter  and  inserted  it  in  its  en- 
velope. He  rang  a  bell  on  his  table  and  the  girl 
who  had  so  filled  T.  X.  with  a  sense  of  awe  came 
from  an  adjoining  room. 

"You  will  see  that  this  is  delivered,  Miss  Hol- 
land." 

She  inclined  her  head  and  stood  waiting.  Kara 
rose  from  his  desk  and  began  to  pace  the  room. 

"Do  you  know  T.  X.  Meredith?"  he  asked  sud- 
denly. 

"I  have  heard  of  him,"  said  the  girl. 

"A  man  with  a  singular  mind,"  said  Kara;  "a 
man  against  whom  my  favourite  weapon  would 
fail." 

She  looked  at  him  with  interest  in  her  eyes. 

"What  is  your  favourite  weapon,  Mr.  Kara?" 
she  asked. 

"Fear,"  he  said. 

If  he  expected  her  to  give  him  any  encourage- 
143 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ment  to  proceed  he  was  disappointed.  Probably 
he  Required  no  such  encouragement,  for  in  the 
presence  of  his  social  inferiors  he  was  somewhat 
monopolizing. 

"Cut  a  man's  flesh  and  it  heals,"  he  said. 
"Whip  a  man  and  the  memory  of  it  passes, 
frighten  him,  fill  him  with  a  sense  of  foreboding 
and  apprehension  and  let  him  believe  that  some- 
thing dreadful  is  going  to  happen  either  to  him- 
self or  to  someone  he  loves — better  the  latter — 
and  you  will  hurt  him  beyond  forgetfulness. 
Fear  is  a  tyrant  and  a  despot,  more  terrible  than 
the  rack,  more  potent  than  the  stake.  Fear  is 
many-eyed  and  sees  horrors  where  normal  vision 
only  sees  the  ridiculous." 

"Is  that  your  creed?"  she  asked  quietly. 

"Part  of  it,  Miss  Holland,"  he  smiled. 

She  played  idly  with  the  letter  she  held  in  her 
hand,  balancing  it  on  the  edge  of  the  desk,  her 
eyes  downcast. 

"What  would  justify  the  use  of  such  an  awful 
weapon?"  she  asked. 

"It  is  amply  justified  to  secure  an  end,"  he  said 
144 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

blandly.  "For  example — I  want  something — I 
cannot  obtain  that  something  through  the  ordi- 
nary channel  or  by  the  employment  of  ordinary 
means.  It  is  essential  to  me,  to  my  happiness,  to 
my  comfort,  or  my  amour-'propre^  that  that  some- 
thing shall  be  possessed  by  me.  If  I  can  buy  it, 
well  and  good.  If  I  can  buy  those  who  can  use 
their  influence  to  secure  this  thing  for  me,  so  much 
the  better.  If  I  can  obtain  it  by  any  merit  I  pos- 
sess, I  utilize  that  merit,  providing  always,  that  I 
can  secure  my  object  in  the  time,  otherwise — " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  see,"  she  said,  nodding  her  head  quickly.  *T 
suppose  that  is  how  blackmailers  feel." 

He  frowned. 

"That  is  a  word  I  never  use,  nor  do  I  like  to 
hear  it  employed,"  he  said.  ""Blackmail  suggests 
to  me  a  vulgar  attempt  to  obtain  money." 

"Which  is  generally  very  badly  wanted  by  the 
people  who  use  it,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  little 
smile,  "and,  according  to  your  argument,  they  are 
also  justified." 

"It  is  a  matter  of  plane,"  he  said  airily. 
145 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Viewed  from  my  standpoint,  they  are  sordid 
criminals — the  sort  of  person  that  T.  X.  meets, 
I  presume,  in  the  course  of  his  daily  work.  T. 
X.,  he  went  on  somewhat  oracularly,  "is  a  man 
for  whom  I  have  a  great  deal  of  respect.  You 
will  probably  meet  him  again,  for  he  will  find  an 
opportunity  of  asking  you  a  few  questions  about 
myself.     I  need  hardly  tell  you — " 

He  lifted  his  shoulders  with  a  deprecating 
smile. 

"I  shall  certainly  not  discuss  your  business  with 
any  person,"  said  the  girl  coldly. 

"I  am  paying  you  £3  a  week,  I  think,"  he  said. 
"I  intend  increasing  that  to  £5  because  you  suit 
me  most  admirably." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  girl  quietly,  "but  I  am 
already  being  paid  quite  sufficient." 

She  left  him,  a  little  astonished  and  not  a  little 
ruffled. 

To  refuse  the  favours  of  Remington  Kara  was, 
by  him,  regarded  as  something  of  an  affront. 
Half  his  quarrel  with  T.  X.  was  that  gentleman's 
curious   indifference   to   the   benevolent   attitude 

146 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

which  Kara  had  persistently  adopted  in  his  deal- 
ings with  the  detective. 

He  rang  the  bell,  this  time  for  his  valet. 

"Fisher,"  he  said,  "I  am  expecting  a  visit  from 
a  gentleman  named  Gathercole — a  one-armed 
gentleman  whom  you  must  look  after  if  he  comes. 
Detain  him  on  some  pretext  or  other  because  he  is 
rather  difficult  to  get  hold  of  and  I  want  to  see 
him.  I  am  going  out  now  and  I  shall  be  back  at 
6.30.  Do  whatever  you  can  to  prevent  him  going 
away  until  I  return.  He  will  probably  be  inter- 
ested if  you  take  him  into  the  library." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  the  urbane  Fisher,  "will 
you  change  before  you  go  out*?" 

Kara  shook  his  head. 

"I  think  I  will  go  as  I  am,"  he  said.  "Get  me 
my  fur  coat.  This  beastly  cold  kills  me,"  he  shiv- 
ered as  he  glanced  into  the  bleak  street.  "Keep 
my  fire  going,  put  all  my  private  letters  in  my  bed- 
room, and  see  that  Miss  Holland  has  her  lunch." 

Fisher  followed  him  to  his  car,  wrapped  the 
fur  rug  about  his  legs,  closed  the  door  carefully 
and  returned  to  the  house.     From  thence  onward 

147 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

his  behaviour  was  somewhat  extraordinary  for  a 
well-bred  servant.  That  he  should  return  to 
Kara's  study  and  set  the  papers  in  order  was  nat- 
ural and  proper. 

That  he  should  conduct  a  rapid  examination  of 
all  the  drawers  in  Kara's  desk  might  be  excused 
on  the  score  of  diligence,  since  he  was,  to  some  ex- 
tent, in  the  confidence  of  his  employer. 

Kara  was  given  to  making  friends  of  his  ser- 
vants— up  to  a  point.  In  his  more  generous  mo- 
ments he  would  address  his  bodyguard  as  "Fred," 
and  on  more  occasions  than  one,  and  for  no  ap- 
parent reason,  had  tipped  his  servant  over  and 
above  his  salary. 

Mr.  Fred  Fisher  found  little  to  reward  him  for 
his  search  until  he  came  upon  Kara's  cheque  book 
which  told  him  that  on  the  previous  day  the  Greek 
had  drawn  £6,000  in  cash  from  the  bank.  This 
interested  him  mightily  and  he  replaced  the 
cheque  book  with  the  tightened  lips  and  the  fixed 
gaze  of  a  man  who  was  thinking  rapidly.  He 
paid  a  visit  to  the  library,  where  the  secretary  was 
engaged  in  making  copies  of  Kara's  correspond- 

148 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ence,  answering  letters  appealing  for  charitable 
donations,  and  in  the  hack  words  which  fall  to 
the  secretaries  of  the  great. 

He  replenished  the  fire,  asked  deferentially  for 
any  instructions  and  returned  again  to  his  quest. 
This  time  he  made  the  bedroom  the  scene  of  his 
investigations.  The  safe  he  did  not  attempt  to 
touch,  but  there  was  a  small  bureau  in  which  Kara 
would  have  placed  his  private  correspondence  of 
the  morning.     This  however  yielded  no  result. 

By  the  side  of  the  bed  on  a  small  table  was  a 
telephone,  the  sight  of  which  apparently  afforded 
the  servant  a  little  amusement.  This  was  the  pri- 
vate 'phone  which  Kara  had  been  instrumental  in 
having  fixed  to  Scotland  Yard — as  he  had  ex- 
plained to  his  servants. 

"Rum  cove,"  said  Fisher. 

He  paused  for  a  moment  before  the  closed  door 
of  the  room  and  smilingly  surveyed  the  great  steel 
latch  which  spanned  the  door  and  fitted  into  an 
iron  socket  securely  screwed  to  the  framework. 
He  lifted  it  gingerly — there  was  a  little  knob  for 
the  purpose — and  let  it  fall  gently  into  the  socket 

149 


THE  CLUE  01^  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

which  had  been  made  to  receive  it  on  the  door  it- 
self. 

"Rum  cove,"  he  said  again,  and  lifting  the 
latch  to  the  hook  which  held  it  up,  left  the  room, 
closing  the  door  softly  behind  him.  He  walked 
down  the  corridor,  with  a  meditative  frown,  and 
began  to  descend  the  stairs  to  the  hall. 

He  was  less  than  half-way  down  when  the  one 
maid  of  Kara's  household  came  up  to  meet  him. 

"There's  a  gentleman  who  wants  to  see  Mr. 
Kara,"  she  said,  "here  is  his  card." 

Fisher  took  the  card  from  the  salver  and  read, 
"Mr.  George  Gathercole,  Junior  Travellers' 
Club." 

"I'll  see  this  gentleman,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden 
brisk  interest. 

He  found  the  visitor  standing  in  the  hall. 

He  was  a  man  who  would  have  attracted  atten- 
tion, if  only  from  the  somewhat  eccentric  nature 
of  his  dress  and  his  unkempt  appearance.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  well-worn  overcoat  of  a  some- 
what pronounced  check,  he  had  a  top-hat,  glossy 
and  obviously  new,  at  the  back  of  his  head,  and 

150 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  lower  part  of  his  face  was  covered  by  a  ragged 
beard.  This  he  was  plucking  with  nervous  jerks, 
talking  to  himself  the  while,  and  casting  a  dispar- 
aging eye  upon  the  portrait  of  Remington  Kara 
which  hung  above  the  marble  fireplace.  A  pair 
of  pince-nez  sat  crookedly  on  his  nose  and  two 
fat  volumes  under  his  arm  completed  the  picture. 
Fisher,  who  was  an  observer  of  some  discernment, 
noticed  under  the  overcoat  a  creased  blue  suit, 
large  black  boots  and  a  pair  of  pearl  studs. 

The  newcomer  glared  round  at  the  valet. 

"Take  these  I"  he  ordered  peremptorily,  point- 
ing to  the  books  under  his  arm. 

Fisher  hastened  to  obey  and  noted  with  some 
wonder  that  the  visitor  did  not  attempt  to  assist 
him  either  by  loosening  his  hold  of  the  volumes  or 
raising  his  hand.  Accidentally  the  valet's  hand 
pressed  against  the  other's  sleeve  and  he  received 
a  shock,  for  the  forearm  was  clearly  an  artificial 
one.  It  was  against  a  wooden  surface  beneath 
the  sleeve  that  his  knuckles  struck,  and  this  view 
of  the  stranger's  infirmity  was  confirmed  when  the 
other  reached  round  with  his  right  hand,  took  hold 

16X 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

of  the  gloved  left  hand  and  thrust  it  into  the 
pocket  of  his  overcoat. 

"Where  is  Kara?"  growled  the  stranger. 

"He  will  be  back  very  shortly,  sir,"  said  the 
urbane  Fisher. 

"Out,  is  he?"  boomed  the  visitor.  "Then  I 
shan't  wait.  What  the  devil  does  he  mean  by 
being  out?     He's  had  three  years  to  be  out  I" 

"Mr.  Kara  expects  you,  sir.  He  told  me  he 
would  be  in  at  six  o'clock  at  the  latest." 

"Six  o'clock,  ye  gods!"  stormed  the  man  im- 
patiently. "What  dog  am  I  that  I  should  wait 
till  six?" 

He  gave  a  savage  little  tug  at  his  beard. 

"Six  o'clock,  eh?  You  will  tell  Mr.  Kara 
that  I  called.     Give  me  those  books." 

"But  I  assure  you,  sir, — "  stammered  Fisher. 

"Give  me  those  books  I"  roared  the  other. 

Deftly  he  lifted  his  left  hand  from  the  pocket, 
crooked  the  elbow  by  some  quick  manipulation, 
and  thrust  the  books,  which  the  valet  most  reluc- 
tantly handed  to  him,  back  to  the  place  from 
whence  he  had  taken  them. 

15S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Tell  Mr.  Kara  I  will  call  at  my  own  time — do 
you  understand,  at  my  own  time.  Good  morning 
to  you." 

"If  you  would  only  wait,  sir,"  pleaded  the 
agonized  Fisher. 

"Wait  be — ^hanged,"  snarled  the  other.  "I've 
waited  three  years,  I  tell  you.  Tell  Mr.  Kara 
to  expect  me  when  he  sees  me  I" 

He  went  out  and  most  unnecessarily  banged  the 
door  behind  him.  Fisher  went  back  to  the  li- 
brary. The  girl  was  sealing  up  some  letters  as  he 
entered  and  looked  up. 

"I  am  afraid.  Miss  Holland,  I've  got  myself 
into  very  serious  trouble." 

"What  is  that,  Fisher*?"  asked  the  girl. 

"There  was  a  gentleman  coming  to  see  Mr. 
Kara,  whom  Mr.  Kara  particularly  wanted  to 
see." 

"Mr.  Gathercole,"  said  the  girl  quickly. 

Fisher  nodded. 

"Yes,  miss,  I  couldn't  get  him  to  stay  though." 

She  pursed  her  lips  thoughtfully. 

"Mr.  Kara  will  be  very  cross,  but  I  don't  see 
153 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

how  you  can  help  it.     I  wish  you  had  called  me." 

"He  never  gave  a  chance,  miss,"  said  Fisher, 
with  a  little  smile,  "but  if  he  comes  again  I'll 
show  him  straight  up  to  you." 

She  nodded. 

"Is  there  anything  you  want,  miss^"  he  asked 
as  he  stood  at  the  door. 

"What  time  did  Mr.  Kara  say  he  would  be 
back?' 

"At  six  o'clock,  miss,"  the  man  replied. 

"There  is  rather  an  important  letter  here  which 
has  to  be  delivered." 

"Shall  I  ring  up  for  a  messenger*?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  that  would  be  advisable. 
You  had  better  take  it  yourself." 

Kara  was  in  the  habit  of  employing  Fisher  as 
a  confidential  messenger  when  the  occasion  de- 
manded such  employment. 

"I  will  go  with  pleasure,  miss,"  he  said. 

It  was  a  heaven-sent  opportunity  for  Fisher, 
who  had  been  inventing  some  excuse  for  leaving 
the  house.  She  handed  him  the  letter  and  he 
read  without  a  droop  of  eyelid  the  superscription 

164i 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"T.  X.  Meredith,  Esq.,  Special  Service  Dept., 
Scotland  Yard,  Whitehall." 

He  put  it  carefully  in  his  pocket  and  went  from 
the  room  to  change.  Large  as  the  house  was 
Kara  did  not  employ  a  regular  staff  of  servants. 
A  maid  and  a  valet  comprised  the  whole  of  the 
indoor  staff.  His  cook,  and  the  other  domestics, 
necessary  for  conducting  an  establishment  of  that 
size,  were  engaged  by  the  day. 

Kara  had  returned  from  the  country  earlier 
than  had  been  anticipated,  and,  save  for  Fisher, 
the  only  other  person  in  the  house  beside  the  girl, 
was  the  middle-aged  domestic  who  was  parlour- 
maid, serving-maid  and  housekeeper  in  one. 

Miss  Holland  sat  at  her  desk  to  all  appearance 
reading  over  the  letters  she  had  typed  that  after- 
noon but  her  mind  was  very  far  from  the  corre- 
spondence before  her.  She  heard  the  soft  thud  of 
the  front  door  closing,  and  rising  she  crossed  the 
room  rapidly  and  looked  down  through  the  win- 
dow to  the  street.  She  watched  Fisher  until  he 
was  out  of  sight;  then  she  descended  to  the  hall 
and  to  the  kitchen. 

155 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

It  was  not  the  first  visit  she  had  made  to  the 
big  underground  room  with  its  vaulted  roof  and 
its  great  ranges — which  were  seldom  used  nowa- 
days, for  Kara  gave  no  dinners. 

The  maid — who  was  also  cook — rose  up  as  the 
girl  entered. 

"It's  a  sight  for  sore  eyes  to  see  you  in  my 
kitchen,  miss,"  she  smiled. 

"I'm  afraid  you're  rather  lonely,  Mrs.  Beale," 
said  the  girl  sympathetically. 

"Lonely,  miss !"  cried  the  maid.  "I  fairly  get 
the  creeps  sitting  here  hour  after  hour.  It's  that 
door  that  gives  me  the  hump !" 

She  pointed  to  the  far  end  of  the  kitchen  to  a 
soiled  looking  door  of  unpainted  wood. 

"That's  Mr.  Kara's  wine  cellar — nobody's 
been  in  it  but  him.  I  know  he  goes  in  sometimes 
because  I  tried  a  dodge  that  my  brother — who's 
a  policeman — taught  me.  I  stretched  a  bit  of 
white  cotton  across  it  an'  it  was  broke  the  next 
morning." 

"Mr.  Kara  keeps  some  of  his  private  papers  in 
166  .   v^ 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

there,"  said  the  girl  quietly,  "he  has  told  me  so 
himself." 

"H'm,"  said  the  woman  doubtfully,  "I  wish 
he'd  brick  it  up — the  same  as  he  has  the  lower 
cellar — I  get  the  horrors  sittin'  here  at  night  ex- 
pectin'  the  door  to  open  an'  the  ghost  of  the  mad 
lord  to  come  out — ^him  that  was  killed  in  Africa." 

Miss  Holland  laughed. 

"I  want  you  to  go  out  now,"  she  said,  "I  have 
no  stamps." 

Mrs.  Beale  obeyed  with  alacrity  and  whilst  she 
was  assuming  a  hat — being  desirous  of  maintain- 
ing her  prestige  as  housekeeper  in  the  eyes  of  Cad- 
ogan  Square,  the  girl  ascended  to  the  upper  floor. 

Again  she  watched  from  the  window  the  dis- 
appearing figure. 

Once  out  of  sight  Miss  Holland  went  to  work 
with  a  remarkable  deliberation  and  thoroughness. 
From  her  bag  she  produced  a  small  purse  and 
opened  it.  In  that  case  was  a  new  steel  key. 
She  passed  swiftly  down  the  corridor  to  Kara's 
room  and  made  straight  for  the  safe. 

167 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

In  two  seconds  it  was  open  and  she  was  examin- 
ing its  contents.  It  was  a  large  safe  of  the  usual 
type.  There  were  four  steel  drawers  fitted  at 
the  back  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  strong  box. 
Two  of  these  were  unlocked  and  contained  noth- 
ing more  interesting  than  accounts  relating  to 
Kara's  estate  in  Albania. 

The  top  pair  were  locked.  She  was  prepared 
for  this  contingency  and  a  second  key  was  as  effi- 
cacious as  the  first.  An  examination  of  the  first 
drawer  did  not  produce  all  that  she  had  expected. 
She  returned  the  papers  to  the  drawer,  pushed  it 
to  and  locked  it.  She  gave  her  attention  to  the 
second  drawer.  Her  hand  shook  a  little  as  she 
pulled  it  open.  It  was  her  last  chance,  her  last 
hope. 

There  were  a  number  of  small  jewel-boxes  al- 
most filling  the  drawer.  '  She  took  them  out  one 
by  one  and  at  the  bottom  she  found  what  she  had 
been  searching  for  and  that  which  had  filled  her 
thoughts  for  the  past  three  months. 

It  was  a  square  case  covered  in  red  morocco 
158 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

leather.     She  inserted  her  shaking  hand  and  took 
it  out  with  a  triumphant  little  cry. 

"At  last,"  she  said  aloud,  and  then  a  hand 
grasped  her  wrist  and  in  a  panic  she  turned  to 
meet  the  smiling  face  of  Kara. 


159 


CHAPTER  X 

She  felt  her  knees  shake  under  her  and  thought 
she  was  going  to  swoon.  She  put  out  her  disen- 
gaged hand  to  steady  herself,  and  if  the  face 
which  was  turned  to  him  was  pale,  there  was  a 
steadfast  resolution  in  her  dark  eyes. 

*'Let  me  relieve  you  of  that,  Miss  Holland," 
said  Kara,  in  his  silkiest  tones. 

He  wrenched  rather  than  took  the  box  from  her 
hand,  replaced  it  carefully  in  the  drawer,  pushed 
the  drawer  to  and  locked  it,  examining  the  key 
as  he  withdrew  it.  Then  he  closed  the  safe  and 
locked  that. 

"Obviously,"  he  said  presently,  "I  must  get  a 
new  safe." 

He  had  not  released  his  hold  of  her  wrist  nor 
did  he,  until  he  had  led  her  from  the  room  back  to 
the  library.     Then  he  released  the  girl,  standing 

160 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

between  her  and  the  door,  with  folded  arms  and 
that  cynical,  quiet,  contemptuous  smile  of  his  upon 
his  handsome  face. 

*'There  are  many  courses  which  I  can  adopt," 
he  said  slowly.  "I  can  send  for  the  police — when 
my  servants  whom  you  have  despatched  so 
thoughtfully  have  returned,  or  I  can  take  your 
punishment  into  my  own  hands." 

"So  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  the  girl  coolly, 
"you  may  send  for  the  police." 

She  leant  back  against  the  edge  of  the  desk, 
her  hands  holding  the  edge,  and  faced  him  with- 
out so  much  as  a  quaver. 

"I  do  not  like  the  police,"  mused  Kara,  when 
there  came  a  knock  at  the  door. 

Kara  turned  and  opened  it  and  after  a  low 
strained  conversation  he  returned,  closing  the  door 
and  laid  a  paper  of  stamps  on  the  girl's  table. 

"As  I  was  saying,  I  do  not  care  for  the  police, 
and  I  prefer  my  own  method.  In  this  particu- 
lar instance  the  police  obviously  would  not  serve 
me,  because  you  are  not  afraid  of  them  and  in  all 
probability  you  are  in  their  pay — am  I  right  in, 

161 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

supposing  that  you  are  one  of  Mr.  T.  X.  Mere- 
dith's accomplices'?" 

"I  do  not  know  Mr.  T.  X.  Meredith,"  she  re- 
plied calmly,  "and  I  am  not  in  any  way  associated 
with  the  police." 

"Nevertheless,"  he  persisted,  "you  do  not  seem 
to  be  very  scared  of  them  and  that  removes  any 
temptation  I  might  have  to  place  you  in  the  hands 
of  the  law.  Let  me  see,"  he  pursed  his  lips  as 
he  applied  his  mind  to  the  problem. 

She  half  sat,  half  stood,  watching  him  without 
any  evidence  of  apprehension,  but  with  a  heart 
which  began  to  quake  a  little.  For  three  months 
she  had  played  her  part  and  the  strain  had  been 
greater  than  she  had  confessed  to  herself.  Now 
the  great  moment  had  come  and  she  had  failed. 
That  was  the  sickening,  maddening  thing  about 
it  all.  It  was  not  the  fear  of  arrest  or  of  con- 
viction, which  brought  a  sinking  to  her  heart;  it 
was  the  despair  of  failure,  added  to  a  sense  of 
her  helplessness  against  this  man. 

"If  I  had  you  arrested  your  name  would  appear 
in  all  the  papers,  of  course,"  he  said,  narrowly, 

162 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"and  your  photograph  would  probably  adorn  the 
Sunday  journals,"  he  added  expectantly. 

She  laughed. 

"That  doesn't  appeal  to  me,"  she  said. 

"I  am  afraid  it  doesn't,"  he  replied,  and 
strolled  towards  her  as  though  to  pass  her  on  his 
way  to  the  window.  He  was  abreast  of  her  when 
he  suddenly  swung  round  and  catching  her  in  his 
arms  he  caught  her  close  to  him.  Before  she 
could  realise  what  he  planned,  he  had  stooped 
swiftly  and  kissed  her  full  upon  the  mouth. 

"If  you  scream,  I  shall  kiss  you  again,"  he  said, 
"for  I  have  sent  the  maid  to  buy  some  more 
stamps — to  the  General  Post  Office." 

"Let  me  go,"  she  gasped. 

Now  for  the  first  time  he  saw  the  terror  in  her 
eyes,  and  there  surged  within  him  that  mad  sense 
of  triumph,  that  intoxication  of  power  which  had 
been  associated  with  the  red  letter  days  of  his 
warped  life. 

"You're  afraid  I"  he  bantered  her,  half  whis- 
pering the  words,  "you're  afraid  now,  aren't  you? 
If  you  scream  I  shall  kiss  you  again,  do  you  hear*?" 

16S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"For  God's  sake,  let  me  go,"  she  whispered. 

He  felt  her  shaking  in  his  arms,  and  suddenly 
he  released  her  with  a  little  laugh,  and  she  sank 
trembling  from  head  to  foot  upon  the  chair  by  her 
desk. 

"Now  you're  going  to  tell  me  who  sent  you 
here,"  he  went  on  harshly,  "and  why  you  came. 
I  never  suspected  you.  I  thought  you  were  one 
of  those  strange  creatures  one  meets  in  England, 
a  gentlewoman  who  prefers  working  for  her  liv- 
ing to  the  more  simple  business  of  getting  mar- 
ried. And  all  the  time  you  were  spying — clever 
— very  clever  I" 

The  girl  was  thinking  rapidly.  In  five  minutes 
Fisher  would  return.  Somehow  she  had  faith  in 
Fisher's  ability  and  willingness  to  save  her  from 
a  situation  which  she  realized  was  fraught  with 
the  greatest  danger  to  herself.  She  was  horribly 
afraid.  She  knew  this  man  far  better  than  he 
suspected,  realized  the  treachery  and  the  un- 
scrupulousness  of  him.  She  knew  he  would  stop 
short  of  nothing,  that  he  was  without  honour  and 
without  a  single  attribute  of  goodness. 

164 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  must  have  read  her  thoughts  for  he  came 
nearer  and  stood  over  her. 

"You  needn't  shrink,  my  young  friend,"  he  said 
with  a  little  chuckle.  "You  are  going  to  do  just 
what  I  want  you  to  do,  and  your  first  act  will  be 
to  accompany  me  downstairs.     Get  up." 

He  half  lifted,  half  dragged  her  to  her  feet  and 
led  her  from  the  room.  They  descended  to  the 
hall  together  and  the  girl  spoke  no  word.  Per- 
haps she  hoped  that  she  might  wrench  herself  free 
and  make  her  escape  into  the  street,  but  in  this  she 
was  disappointed.  The  grip  about  her  arm  was 
a  grip  of  steel  and  she  knew  safety  did  not  lie  in 
that  direction.  She  pulled  back  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs  that  led  down  to  the  kitchen. 

"Where  are  you  taking  me?"  she  asked. 

"I  am  going  to  put  you  into  safe  custody,"  he 
said.  "On  the  whole  I  think  it  is  best  that  the  po- 
lice take  this  matter  in  hand  and  I  shall  lock  you 
into  my  wine  cellar  and  go  out  in  search  of  a  po- 
liceman." 

The  big  wooden  door  opened,  revealing  a  sec- 
ond door  and  this  Kara  unbolted.     She  noticed 

165 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

that  both  doors  were  sheeted  with  steel,  the  outer 
on  the  inside,  and  the  inner  door  on  the  outside. 
She  had  no  time  to  make  any  further  observations 
for  Kara  thrust  her  into  the  darkness.  He 
switched  on  a  light. 

"I  will  not  deny  you  that,"  he  said,  pushing  her 
back  as  she  made  a  frantic  attempt  to  escape.  He 
swung  the  outer  door  to  as  she  raised  her  voice  in 
a  piercing  scream,  and  clapping  his  hand  over  her 
mouth  held  her  tightly  for  a  moment. 

"I  have  warned  you,"  he  hissed. 

She  saw  his  face  distorted  with  rage.  She  saw 
Kara  transfigured  with  devilish  anger,  saw  that 
handsome,  almost  godlike  countenance  thrust  into 
hers,  flushed  and  seamed  with  malignity  and  a 
hatefulness  beyond  understanding  and  then  her 
senses  left  her  and  she  sank  limp  and  swooning 
into  his  arms. 

When  she  recovered  consciousness  she  found 
herself  lying  on  a  plain  stretcher  bed.  She  sat 
up  suddenly.  Kara  had  gone  and  the  door  was 
closed.     The  cellar  was  dry  and  clean  and  its 

166 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

walls  were  enamelled  white.  Light  was  supplied 
by  two  electric  lamps  in  the  ceiling.  There  was  a 
table  and  a  chair  and  a  small  washstand,  and  air 
was  evidently  supplied  through  unseen  ventilat- 
ors. It  was  indeed  a  prison  and  no  less,  and  in 
her  first  moments  of  panic  she  found  herself  won- 
dering whether  Kara  had  used  this  underground 
dungeon  of  his  before  for  a  similar  purpose. 

She  examined  the  room  carefully.  At  the  far- 
thermost end  was  another  door  and  this  she  pushed 
gently  at  first  and  then  vigorously  without  pro- 
ducing the  slightest  impression.  She  still  had 
her  bag,  a  small  affair  of  black  moire,  which  hung 
from  her  belt,  in  which  was  nothing  more  formid- 
able than  a  penknife,  a  small  bottle  of  smelling 
salts  and  a  pair  of  scissors.  The  latter  she  had 
used  for  cutting  out  those  paragraphs  from  the 
daily  newspapers  which  referred  to  Kara's  move- 
ments. 

They  would  make  a  formidable  weapon,  and 
wrapping  her  handkerchief  round  the  handle  to 
give  it  a  better  grip  she  placed  it  on  the  table 
within  reach.     She  was  dimly  conscious  all  the 

167 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

time  that  she  had  heard  something  about  this  wine 
cellar — something  which,  if  she  could  recollect  it, 
would  be  of  service  to  her. 

Then  in  a  flash  she  remembered  that  there  was  a 
lower  cellar,  which  according  to  Mrs.  Beale  was 
never  used  and  was  bricked  up.  It  was  ap- 
proached from  the  outside,  down  a  circular  flight 
of  stairs.  There  might  be  a  way  out  from  that 
direction  and  would  there  not  be  some  connection 
between  the  upper  cellar  and  the  lower"? 

She  set  to  work  to  make  a  closer  examination 
of  the  apartment. 

The  floor  was  of  concrete,  covered  with  a  light 
rush  matting.  This  she  carefully  rolled  up,  start- 
ing at  the  door.  One  half  of  the  floor  was  un- 
covered without  revealing  the  existence  of  any 
trap.  She  attempted  to  pull  the  table  into  the 
centre  of  the  room,  better  to  roll  the  matting,  but 
found  it  fixed  to  the  wall,  and  going  down  on  her 
knees,  she  discovered  that  it  had  been  fixed  after 
the  matting  had  been  laid. 

Obviously  there  was  no  need  for  the  fixture  and 
she  tapped  the  floor  with  her  little  knuckle.     Her 

168 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

heart  started  racing.  The  sound  her  knocking 
gave  forth  was  a  hollow  one.  She  sprang  up, 
took  her  bag  from  the  table,  opened  the  little  pen- 
knife and  cut  carefully  through  the  thin  rushes. 
She  might  have  to  replace  the  matting  and  it  was 
necessary  she  should  do  her  work  tidily. 

Soon  the  whole  of  the  trap  was  revealed. 
There  was  an  iron  ring,  which  fitted  flush  with 
the  top  and  which  she  pulled.  The  trap  yielded 
and  swung  back  as  though  there  were  a  counter- 
balance at  the  other  end,  as  indeed  there  was. 
She  peered  down.  There  was  a  dim  light  below 
— the  reflection  of  a  light  in  the  distance.  A  flight 
of  steps  led  down  to  the  lower  level  and  after  a 
second's  hesitation  she  swung  her  legs  over  the 
cavity  and  began  her  descent. 

She  was  in  a  cellar  slightly  smaller  than  that 
above  her.  The  light  she  had  seen  came  from 
an  inner  apartment  which  would  be  underneath 
the  kitchen  of  the  house.  She  made  her  way 
cautiously  along,  stepping  on  tip-toe.  The  first 
of  the  rooms  she  came  to  was  well-fumished. 
There  was  a  thick  carpet  on  the  floor,  comfortable 

169 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

easy-chairs,  a  little  bookcase  well  filled,  and  a 
reading  lamp.  This  must  be  Kara's  underground 
study,  where  he  kept  his  precious  papers. 

A  smaller  room  gave  from  this  and  again  it 
was  doorless.  She  looked  in  and  after  her  eyes 
had  become  accustomed  to  the  darkness  she  saw 
that  it  was  a  bathroom  handsomely  fitted. 

The  room  she  was  in  was  also  without  any  light 
which  came  from  the  farthermost  chamber.  As 
the  girl  strode  softly  across  the  well-carpeted  room 
she  trod  on  something  hard.  She  stooped  and  felt 
along  the  floor  and  her  fingers  encountered  a  thin 
steel  chain.  The  girl  was  bewildered — almost 
panic-stricken.  She  shrunk  back  from  the  en- 
trance of  the  inner  room,  fearful  of  what  she 
would  see.  And  then  from  the  interior  came  a 
sound  that  made  her  tinglie  with  horror. 

It  was  a  sound  of  a  sigh,  long  and  trembling. 
She  set  her  teeth  and  strode  through  the  doorway 
and  stood  for  a  moment  staring  with  open  eyes 
and  mouth  at  what  she  saw. 

"My  God!"  she  breathed,  "London!  ...  in 
the  twentieth  centur}'^  .  .  . !" 

170 


CHAPTER  XI 

Superintendent  Mansus  had  a  little  office  in 
Scotland  Yard  proper,  which,  he  complained,  was 
not  so  much  a  private  bureau,  as  a  waiting-room 
to  which  repaired  every  official  of  the  police  serv- 
ice who  found  time  hanging  on  his  hands.  On 
the  afternoon  of  Miss  Holland's  surprising  ad- 
venture, a  plainclothes  man  of  "D"  Division 
brought  to  Mr.  Mansus's  room  a  very  scared  do- 
mestic servant,  voluble,  tearful  and  agonizingly 
penitent.  It  was  a  mood  not  wholly  unfamiliar 
to  a  police  officer  of  twenty  years  experience  and 
Mr.  Mansus  was  not  impressed. 

"If  you  will  kindly  shut  up,"  he  said,  blending 
his  natural  politeness  with  his  employment  of  the 
vernacular,  "and  if  you  will  also  answer  a  few 
questions  I  will  save  you  a  lot  of  trouble.  You 
were  Lady  Bartholomew's  maid  weren't  you*?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  sobbed  the  red-eyed  Mary  Ann. 

"And  you  have  been  detected  trying  to  pawn 

ni 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

a  gold  bracelet,  the  property  of  Lady  Bartholo- 
mew?" 

The  maid  gulped,  nodded  and  started  breath- 
lessly upon  a  recital  of  her  wrongs. 

"Yes,  sir — ^but  she  practically  gave  it  to  me,  sir, 
and  I  haven't  had  my  wages  for  two  months,  sir, 
and  she  can  give  that  foreigner  thousands  and 
thousands  of  pounds  at  a  time,  sir,  but  her  poor 
servants  she  can't  pay — no,  she  can't.  And  if  Sir 
William  knew  especially  about  my  lady's  cards 
and  about  the  snuffbox,  what  would  he  think,  I 
wonder,  and  I'm  going  to  have  my  rights,  for  if 
she  can  pay  thousands  to  a  swell  like  Mr.  Kara 
she  can  pay  me  and — " 

Mansus  jerked  his  head. 

**Take  her  down  to  the  cells,"  he  said  briefly, 
and  they  led  her  away,  a  wailing,  woeful  figure  of 
amateur  larcenist. 

In  three  minutes  Mansus  was  with  T.  X.  and 
had  reduced  the  girl's  incoherence  to  something 
like  order. 

"This  is  important,"  said  T.  X. ;  "produce  the 
Abigail." 

172 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"The — ^"  asked  the  puzzled  officer. 

"The  skivvy — slavey — ^hired  help — ^get  busy," 
said  T.  X.  impatiently. 

They  brought  her  to  T.  X.  in  a  condition  bor- 
dering upon  collapse. 

"Get  her  a  cup  of  tea,"  said  the  wise  chief. 
"Sit  down,  Mary  Ann,  and  forget  all  your 
troubles." 

"Oh,  sir,  I've  never  been  in  this  position  be- 
fore," she  began,  as  she  flopped  into  the  chair  they 
put  for  her. 

"Then  you've  had  a  very  tiring  time,"  said 
T.  X.     "Now  listen—" 

"I've  been  respectable — " 

"Forget  it  I"  said  T.  X.,  wearily.  "Listen! 
If  you'll  tell  me  the  whole  truth  about  Lady  Bar- 
tholomew and  the  money  she  paid  to  Mr.  Kara — " 

"Two  thousand  pounds — two  separate  thou- 
sand and  by  all  accounts — " 

"If  you  will  tell  me  the  truth,  I'll  compound 
a  felony  and  let  you  go  free." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  he  could  prevail  upon 
her  to  clear  her  speech  of  the  ego  which  insisted 

173 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

upon  intruding.  There  were  gaps  in  her  narra- 
tive which  he  bridged.  In  the  main  it  was  a  be- 
lievable story.  Lady  Bartholomew  had  lost 
money  and  had  borrowed  from  Kara.  She  had 
given  as  security,  the  snuffbox  presented  to  her 
husband's  father,  a  doctor,  by  one  of  the  Czars 
for  services  rendered,  and  was  "all  blue  enamel 
and  gold,  and  foreign  words  in  diamonds."  On 
the  question  of  the  amount  Lady  Bartholomew 
had  borrowed,  Abigail  was  very  vague.  All  that 
she  knew  was  that  my  lady  had  paid  back  two 
thousand  pounds  and  that  she  was  still  very  dis- 
tressed ("in  a  fit"  was  the  phrase  the  girl  used), 
because  apparently  Kara  refused  to  restore  the 
box. 

There  had  evidently  been  terrible  scenes  in  the 
Bartholomew  menage,  hysterics  and  what  not,  the 
principal  breakdown  having  occurred  when  Be- 
linda Mary  came  home  from  school  in  France. 

"Miss  Bartholomew  is  home  then.  Where  is 
she?"  asked  T.  X. 

Here  the  girl  was  more  vague  than  ever.  She 
thought  the  young  lady  had  gone  back  again,  any- 

17^ 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

way  Miss  Belinda  had  been  very  much  upset. 
Miss  Belinda  had  seen  Dr.  Williams  and  ad- 
vised that  her  mother  should  go  away  for  a 
change. 

"Miss  Belinda  seems  to  be  a  precocious  young 
person,"  said  T.  X.  "Did  she  by  any  chance  see 
Mr.  Kara^" 

"Oh,  no,"  explained  the  girl.  "Miss  Belinda 
was  above  that  sort  of  person.  Miss  Belinda  was 
a  lady,  if  ever  there  was  one." 

"And  how  old  is  this  interesting  young 
woman*?"  asked  T.  X.  curiously. 

"She  is  nineteen,"  said  the  girl,  and  the  Com- 
missioner, who  had  picture^  Belinda  in  short  plaid 
frocks  and  long  pigtails,  and  had  moreover  visu- 
alised her  as  a  freckled  little  girl  with  thin  legs 
and  snub  nose,  was  abashed. 

He  delivered  a  short  lecture  on  the  sacred  rights 
of  property,  paid  the  girl  the  three  months'  wages 
which  were  due  to  her — ^he  had  no  doubt  as  to  the 
legality  of  her  claim — -and  dismissed  her  with  in- 
structions to  go  back  to  the  house,  pack  her  box 
and  clear  out. 

176 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

After  the  girl  had  gone,  T.  X.  sat  down  to  con- 
sider the  position.  He  might  see  Kara  and  since 
Kara  had  expressed  his  contrition  and  was  prob- 
ably in  a  more  humble  state  of  mind,  he  might 
make  reparation.  Then  again  he  might  not. 
Mansus  was  waiting  and  T.  X.  walked  back  with 
him  to  his  little  office. 

'T  hardly  know  what  to  make  of  it,"  he  said  in 
despair. 

'Tf  you  can  give  me  Kara's  motive,  sir,  I  can 
give  you  a  solution,"  said  Mansus. 

T.  X.  shook  his  head. 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  am  unable  to  give  you,'* 
he  said. 

He  perched  himself  on  Mansus's  desk  and  lit 
a  cigar. 

"I  have  a  good  mind  to  go  round  and  see  him," 
he  said  after  a  while. 

"Why  not  telephone  to  him?"  asked  Mansus. 
"There  is  his  'phone  straight  into  his  boudoir." 

He  pointed  to  a  small  telephone  in  a  comer  of 
the  room. 

176 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Oh,  he  persuaded  the  Commissioner  to  run  the 
wire,  did  he?"  said  T.  X.  interested,  and  walked 
over  to  the  telephone. 

He  fingered  the  receiver  for  a  little  while  and 
was  about  to  take  it  off,  but  changed  his  mind. 

"I  think  not,"  he  said,  "I'll  go  round  and  see 
him  to-morrow.  I  don't  hope  to  succeed  in  ex- 
tracting the  confidence  in  the  case  of  Lady  Bar- 
tholomew, which  he  denied  me  over  poor  Lex- 
man." 

"I  suppose  you'll  never  give  up  hope  of  seeing 
Mr.  Lexman  again,"  smiled  Mansus,  busily  ar- 
ranging a  new  blotting  pad. 

Before  T.  X.  could  answer  there  came  a  knock 
at  the  door,  and  a  uniformed  policeman  entered. 
He  saluted  T.  X. 

"They've  just  sent  an  urgent  letter  across  from 
your  office,  sir.     I  said  I  thought  you  were  here." 

He  handed  the  missive  to  the  Commissioner. 
T.  X.  took  it  and  glanced  at  the  typewritten  ad- 
dress. It  was  marked  "urgent"  and  "by  hand." 
He  took  up  the  thin,  steel,  paper-knife  from  the 

177 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

desk  and  slit  open  the  envelope.  The  letter  con- 
sisted of  three  or  four  pages  of  manuscript  and, 
unlike  the  envelope,  it  was  handwritten. 

"My  dear  T.  X.,"  it  began,  and  the  handwrit- 
ing was  familiar. 

Mansus,  watching  the  Commissioner,  saw  the 
puzzled  frown  gather  on  his  superior's  forehead, 
saw  the  eyebrows  arch  and  the  mouth  open  in 
astonishment,  saw  him  hastily  turn  to  the  last 
page  to  read  the  signature  and  then — 

"Howling  apples  I"  gasped  T.  X.  "It's  from 
John  Lexman!" 

His  hand  shook  as  he  turned  the  closely  written 
pages.  The  letter  was  dated  that  afternoon. 
There  was  no  other  address  than  "London." 

"My  dear  T.  X.,"  it  began,  "I  do  not  doubt  that  this 
letter  will  give  you  a  little  shock,  because  most  of  my 
friends  will  have  believed  that  I  am  gone  beyond  re- 
turn. Fortunately  or  unfortunately  that  is  not  so.  For 
myself  I  could  wish — but  I  am  not  going  to  take  a  very 
gloomy  view  since  I  am  genuinely  pleased  at  the  thought 
that  I  shall  be  meeting  you  again.  Forgive  this  letter  if 
it  is  incoherent  but  I  have  only  this  moment  returned  and 
am  writing  at  the  Charing  Cross  Hotel.  I  am  not  stay- 
ing here,  but  I  will  let  you  have  my  address  later.     The 

178 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

crossing  has  been  a  very  severe  one  so  you  must  forgive 
me  if  my  letter  sounds  a  little  disjointed.  You  will  be 
sorry  to  hear  that  my  dear  wife  is  dead.  She  died  abroad 
about  six  months  ago.  I  do  not  wish  to  talk  very  much 
about  it  so  you  will  forgive  me  if  I  do  not  tell  you  any 
more. 

"My  principal  object  in  writing  to  you  at  the  moment 
is  an  official  one.  I  suppose  I  am  still  amenable  to  pun- 
ishment and  I  have  decided  to  surrender  myself  to  the 
authorities  to-night.  You  used  to  have  a  most  excellent 
assistant  in  Superintendent  Mansus,  and  if  it  is  conven- 
ient to  you,  as  I  hope  it  will  be,  I  will  report  myself  to 
him  at  10.15.  At  any  rate,  my  dear  T.  X.,  I  do  not  wish 
to  mix  you  up  in  my  affairs  and  if  you  will  let  me  do 
this  business  through  Mansus  I  shall  be  very  much 
obliged  to  you. 

"I  know  there  is  no  great  punishment  awaiting  me, 
because  my  pardon  was  apparently  signed  on  the  night 
before  my  escape.  I  shall  not  have  much  to  tell  you, 
because  there  is  not  much  in  the  past  two  years  that  I 
would  care  to  recall.  We  endured  a  great  deal  of  un- 
happiness  and  death  was  very  merciful  when  it  took  my 
beloved  from  me. 

"Do  you  ever  see  Kara  in  these  days? 

"Will  you  tell  Mansus  to  expect  me  at  between  ten 
and  half-past,  and  if  he  will  give  instructions  to  the 
officer  on  duty  in  the  hall  I  will,  come  straight  up  to  his 
room. 

"With  affectionate  regards,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am, 
"Yours  sincerely, 

"John  Lexman." 
179 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  read  the  letter  over  twice  and  his  eyes 
were  troubled. 

"Poor  girl,"  he  said  softly,  and  handed  the  let- 
ter to  Mansus.  "He  evidently  wants  to  see  you 
because  he  is  afraid  of  using  my  friendship  to  his 
advantage.     I  shall  be  here,  nevertheless." 

"What  will  be  the  formality?"  asked  Man- 
sus. 

"There  will  be  no  formality,"  said  the  other 
briskly.  "I  will  secure  the  necessary  pardon 
from  the  Home  Secretary  and  in  point  of  fact  I 
have  it  already  promised,  in  writing." 

He  walked  back  to  Whitehall,  his  mind  fully 
occupied  with  the  momentous  events  of  the  day. 
It  was  a  raw  February  evening,  sleet  was  falling 
in  the  street,  a  piercing  easterly  wind  drove  even 
through  his  thick  overcoat.  In  such  doorways  as 
offered  protection  from  the  bitter  elements  the 
wreckage  of  humanity  which  clings  to  the  West 
end  of  London,  as  the  singed  moth  flutters  about 
the  flame  that  destroys  it,  were  huddled  for 
warmth. 

T.  X.  was  a  man  of  vast  human  sympathies. 
180 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

All  his  experience  with  the  criminal  world,  all 
his  disappointments,  all  his  disillusions  had  failed 
to  quench  the  pity  for  his  unfortunate  fellows. 
He  made  it  a  rule  on  such  nights  as  these,  that  if, 
by  chance,  returning  late  to  his  office  he  should 
find  such  a  shivering  piece  of  jetsam  sheltering  in 
his  own  doorway,  he  would  give  him  or  her  the 
price  of  a  bed. 

In  his  own  quaint  way  he  derived  a  certain 
speculative  excitement  from  this  practice.  If  the 
doorway  was  empty  he  regarded  himself  as  a  win- 
ner, if  some  one  stood  sheltered  in  the  deep  recess 
which  is  a  feature  of  the  old  Georgian  houses  in 
this  historic  thoroughfare,  he  would  lose  to  the 
extent  of  a  shilling. 

He  peered  forward  through  the  semi-darkness 
as  he  neared  the  door  of  his  offices. 

"I've  lost,"  he  said,  and  stripped  his  gloves 
preparatory  to  groping  in  his  pocket  for  a  coin. 

Somebody  was  standing  in  the  entrance,  but  it 
was  obviously  a  very  respectable  somebody.  A 
dumpy,  motherly  somebody  in  a  seal-skin  coat  and 
a  preposterous  bonnet, 

181 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Hullo,"  said  T.  X.  in  surprise,  "are  you  try- 
ing to  get  in  here?" 

"I  want  to  see  Mr.  Meredith,"  said  the  visitor, 
in  the  mincing  affected  tones  of  one  who  excused 
the  vulgar  source  of  her  prosperity  by  frequently 
reiterated  claims  to  having  seen  better  days. 

"Your  longing  shall  be  gratified,"  said  T.  X. 
gravely. 

He  unlocked  the  heavy  door,  passed  through 
the  uncarpeted  passage — there  are  no  frills  on 
Government  offices — and  led  the  way  up  the  stairs 
to  the  suite  on  the  first  floor  which  constituted  his 
bureau. 

He  switched  on  all  the  lights  and  surveyed 
his  visitor,  a  comfortable  person  of  the  landlady 
type. 

"A  good  sort,"  thought  T.  X.,  "but  somewhat 
overweighted  with  lorgnettes  and  seal-skin." 

"You  will  pardon  my  coming  to  see  you  at  this 
hour  of  the  night,"  she  began  deprecatingly,  "but 
as  my  dear  father  used  to  say,  'Honi  soil  qui  mal  y 
pense:  " 

"Your  dear  father  being  in  the  garter  busi- 
182 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ness*?"   suggested  T.    X.   humorously.     "Won't 
you  sit  down,  Mrs. — " 

"Mrs.  Cassley,"  beamed  the  lady  as  she  seated 
herself.  "He  was  in  the  paper  hanging  business. 
But  needs  must,  when  the  devil  drives,  as  the  say- 
ing goes." 

"What  particular  devil  is  driving  you,  Mrs. 
Cassley'?"  asked  T.  X.,  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  un- 
derstand the  object  of  this  visit. 

"I  may  be  doing  wrong,"  began  the  lady,  purs- 
ing her  lips,  "and  two  blacks  will  never  make  a 
white." 

"And  all  that  glitters  is  not  gold,"  suggested 
T.  X.  a  little  wearily.  "Will  you  please  tell  me 
your  business,  Mrs.  Cassley?  I  am  a  very  hungry 
man." 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Cassley, 
dropping  her  erudition,  and  coming  down  to  bed- 
rock homeliness ;  "I've  got  a  young  lady  stopping 
with  me,  as  respectable  a  gel  as  I've  had  to  deal 
with.  And  I  know  what  respectability  is,  I  might 
tell  you,  for  I've  taken  professional  boarders  and 
I  have  been  housekeeper  to  a  doctor." 

183 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  are  well  qualified  to  speak,"  said  T.  X. 
with  a  smile.  "And  what  al)out  this  particular 
young  lady  of  yours?  By  the  way  what  is  your 
address?" 

"86a  Marylebone  Road,"  said  the  lady. 

T.  X.  sat  up. 

"Yes?"  he  said  quickly.  "What  about  your 
young  lady?" 

"She  works  as  far  as  I  can  understand,"  said 
the  loquacious  landlady,  "with  a  certain  Mr.  Kara 
in  the  typewriting  line.  She  came  to  me  four 
months  ago." 

"Never  mind  when  she  came  to  you,"  said  T. 
X.  impatiently.  "Have  you  a  message  from  the 
lady?" 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Cassley, 
leaning  forward  confidentially  and  speaking  in 
the  hollow  tone  which  she  had  decided  should 
accompany  any  revelation  to  a  police  officer,  "this 
young  lady  said  to  me,  'If  I  don't  come  any  night 
by  8  o'clock  you  must  go  to  T.  X.  and  tell 
him—' !" 

She  paused  dramatically. 
184s 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  T.  X.  quickly,  "for  heaven's 
sake  go  on,  woman." 

"  Tell  him,' "  said  Mrs.  Cassley,  "  'that  Be- 
linda Mary — ' " 

He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Belinda  Mary!"  he  breathed,  "Belinda 
Mary!" 

In  a  flash  he  saw  it  all.  This  girl  with  a  knowl- 
edge of  modern  Greek,  who  was  working  in  Kara's 
house,  was  there  for  a  purpose.  Kara  had 
something  of  her  mother's,  something  that  was 
vital  and  which  he  would  not  part  with,  and  she 
had  adopted  this  method  of  securing  that  some- 
thing. Mrs.  Cassley  was  prattling  on,  but  her 
voice  was  merely  a  haze  of  sound  to  him.  It 
brought  a  strange  glow  to  his  heart  that  Belinda 
Mary  should  have  thought  of  him. 

"Only  as  a  policeman,  of  course,"  said  the  still, 
small  voice  of  his  official  self.  "Perhaps  I"  said 
the  human  T.  X.,  defiantly. 

He  got  on  the  telephone  to  Mansus  and  gave 
a  few  instructions. 

"You  stay  here,"  he  ordered  the  astounded 
185 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Mrs.  Cassley;  "I  am  going  to  make  a  few  investi- 
gations." 

Kara  was  at  home,  but  was  in  bed.  T.  X.  re- 
membered that  this  extraordinary  man  invariably 
went  to  bed  early  and  that  it  was  his  practice  to 
receive  visitors  in  this  guarded  room  of  his.  He 
was  admitted  almost  at  once  and  found  Kara  in 
his  silk  dressing-gown  lying  on  the  bed  smoking. 
The  heat  of  the  room  was  unbearable  even  on  that 
bleak  February  night. 

"This  is  a  pleasant  surprise,"  said  Kara,  sitting 
up;  *T  hope  you  don't  mind  my  deshabille  J' 

T.  X.  came  straight  to  the  point. 

"Where  is  Miss  Holland?"  he  asked. 

"Miss  Holland'?"  Kara's  eyebrows  advertised 
his  astonishment.  "What  an  extraordinary  ques- 
tion to  ask  me,  my  dear  man !  At  her  home,  or 
at  the  theatre  or  in  a  cinema  palace — I  don't  know 
how  these  people  employ  their  evenings." 

"She  is  not  at  home,"  said  T.  X.,  "and  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  she  has  not  left  this  house." 

"What  a  suspicious  person  you  are,  Mr.  Mere- 
186 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

dith!"  Kara  rang  the  bell  and  Fisher  came  in 
with  a  cup  of  coffee  on  a  tray. 

"Fisher,"  drawled  Kara.  "Mr.  Meredith  is 
anxious  to  know  where  Miss  Holland  is.  Will 
you  be  good  enough  to  tell  him,  you  know  more 
about  her  movements  than  I  do." 

"As  far  as  I  know,  sir,"  said  Fisher  deferen- 
tially, "she  left  the  house  about  5.30,  her  usual 
hour.  She  sent  me  out  a  little  before  five  on  a 
message  and  when  I  came  back  her  hat  and  her 
coat  had  gone,  so  I  presume  she  had  gone  also." 

"Did  you  see  her  go?"  asked  T.  X. 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"No,  sir,  I  very  seldom  see  the  lady  come  or  go. 
There  has  been  no  restrictions  placed  upon  the 
young  lady  and  she  has  been  at  liberty  to  move 
about  as  she  likes.  I  think  I  am  correct  in  say- 
ing that,  sir,"  he  turned  to  Kara. 

Kara  nodded. 

"You  will  probably  find  her  at  home." 

He  shook  his  finger  waggishly  at  T.  X. 

"What  a  dog  you  are,"  he  jibed,  "I  ought  to 
187 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

keep  the  beauties  of  my  household  veiled,  as  we 
do  in  the  East,  and  especially  when  I  have  a  sus- 
ceptible policeman  wandering  at  large." 

T.  X.  gave  jest  for  jest.  There  was  nothing 
to  be  gained  by  making  trouble  here.  After  a 
few  amiable  commonplaces  he  took  his  departure. 
He  found  Mrs.  Cassley  being  entertained  by  Man- 
sus  with  a  wholly  fictitious  description  of  the  fa- 
mous criminals  he  had  arrested. 

*T  can  only  suggest  that  you  go  home,"  said 
T.  X.  'T  will  send  a  police  officer  with  you  to 
report  to  me,  but  in  all  probability  you  will  find 
the  lady  has  returned.  She  may  have  had  a  dif- 
ficulty in  getting  a  bus  on  a  night  like  this." 

A  detective  was  summoned  from  Scotland  Yard 
and  accompanied  by  him  Mrs.  Cassley  returned 
to  her  domicile  with  a  certain  importance.  T.  X. 
looked  at  his  watch.     It  was  a  quarter  to  ten. 

"Whatever  happens,  I  must  see  old  Lexman," 
he  said.  "Tell  the  best  men  we've  got  in  the  de- 
partment to  stand  by  for  eventualities.  This  is 
going  to  be  one  of  my  busy  days." 


188 


CHAPTER  XII 

Kara  lay  back  on  his  down  pillows  with  a  sneer 
on  his  face  and  his  brain  very  busy.  What  started 
the  train  of  thought  he  did  not  know,  but  at  that 
moment  his  mind  was  very  far  away.  It  carried 
him  back  a  dozen  years  to  a  dirty  little  peasant's 
cabin  on  the  hillside  outside  Durazzo,  to  the  livid 
face  of  a  young  Albanian  chief,  who  had  lost  at 
Kara's  whim  all  that  life  held  for  a  man,  to  the 
hateful  eyes  of  the  girl's  father,  who  stood  with 
folded  arms  glaring  down  at  the  bound  and  man- 
acled figure  on  the  floor,  to  the  smoke-stained  raft- 
ers of  this  peasant  cottage  and  the  dancing  shad- 
ows on  the  roof,  to  that  terrible  hour  of  waiting 
when  he  sat  bound  to  a  post  with  a  candle  flick- 
ering and  spluttering  lower  and  lower  to  the  little 
heap  of  gunpowder  that  would  start  the  trail  to- 
ward the  clumsy  infernal  machine  under  his  chair. 
He  remembered  the  day  well  because  it  was 
189 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Candlemas  day,  and  this  was  the  anniversary. 
He  remembered  other  things  more  pleasant.  The 
beat  of  hoofs  on  the  rocky  roadway,  the  crash 
of  the  door  falling  in  when  the  Turkish  Gen- 
darmes had  battered  a  way  to  his  rescue.  He 
remembered  with  a  savage  joy  the  spectacle  of 
his  would-be  assassins  twitching  and  struggling  on 
the  gallows  at  Pezara  and — he  heard  the  faint 
tinkle  of  the  front  door  bell. 

Had  T.  X.  returned?  He  slipped  from  the 
bed  and  went  to  the  door,  opened  it  slightly  and 
listened.  T.  X.  with  a  search  warrant  might  be 
a  source  of  panic  especially  if — he  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  He  had  satisfied  T.  X.  and  allayed 
his  suspicions.  He  would  get  Fisher  out  of  the 
way  that  night  and  make  sure. 

The  voice  from  the  hall  below  was  loud  and 
gruff.  Who  could  it  be*?  Then  he  heard  Fish- 
er's foot  on  the  stairs  and  the  valet  entered. 

"Will  you  see  Mr.  Gathercole  now?" 

"Mr.  Gathercole?" 

Kara  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  and  his  face  was 
wreathed  in  smiles. 

190 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Why,  of  course.  Tell  him  to  come  up.  Ask 
him  if  he  minds  seeing  me  in  my  room." 

*T  told  him  you  were  in  bed,  sir,  and  he  used 
shocking  language,"  said  Fisher. 

Kara  laughed. 

"Send  him  up,"  he  said,  and  then  as  Fisher  was 
going  out  of  the  room  he  called  him  back. 

"By  the  way,  Fisher,  after  Mr.  Gathercole  has 
gone,  you  may  go  out  for  the  night.  You've  got 
somewhere  to  go,  I  suppose,  and  you  needn't  come 
back  until  the  morning." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  servant. 

Such  an  instruction  was  remarkably  pleasing 
to  him.  There  was  much  that  he  had  to  do  and 
that  night's  freedom  would  assist  him  materi- 
ally. 

"Perhaps — "  Kara  hesitated,  "perhaps  you  had 
better  wait  until  eleven  o'clock.  Bring  me  up 
some  sandwiches  and  a  large  glass  of  milk.  Or 
better  still,  place  them  on  a  plate  in  the  hall." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  the  man  and  withdrew. 

Down  below,  that  grotesque  figure  with  his 
shiny  hat  and  his  ragged  beard  was  walking  up 

191 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

and  down  the  tesselated  hallway  muttering  to 
himself  and  staring  at  the  various  objects  in  the 
hall  with  a  certain  amused  antagonism. 

"Mr.  Kara  will  see  you,  sir,"  said  Fisher. 

"Oh !"  said  the  other  glaring  at  the  unoffending 
Fisher,  "that's  very  good  of  him  I  Very  good  of 
this  person  to  see  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman  who 
has  been  about  his  dirty  business  for  three  years. 
Grown  grey  in  his  service  I  Do  you  understand 
that,  my  man*?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Fisher. 

"Look  here  I" 

The  man  thrust  out  his  face. 

"Do  you  see  those  grey  hairs  in  my  beard  ^" 

The  embarrassed  Fisher  grinned. 

"Is  it  grey*?"  challenged  the  visitor,  with  a  roar. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  valet  hastily. 

"Is  it  real  grey*?"  insisted  the  visitor.  "Full 
one  out  and  see !" 

The  startled  Fisher  drew  back  with  an  apolo- 
getic smile. 

"I  couldn't  think  of  doing  a  thing  like  that, 
sir." 

192 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Oh,  you  couldn't,"  sneered  the  visitor;  "then 
lead  on!" 

Fisher  showed  the  way  up  the  stairs.  This 
time  the  traveller  carried  no  books.  His  left  arm 
hung  limply  by  his  side  and  Fisher  privately  gath- 
ered that  the  hand  had  got  loose  from  the  detain- 
ing pocket  without  its  owner  being  aware  of  the 
fact.  He  pushed  open  the  door  and  announced, 
"Mr.  Gathercole,"  and  Kara  came  forward  with 
a  smile  to  meet  his  agent,  who,  with  top  hat  still 
on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  his  overcoat  dangling 
about  his  heels,  must  have  made  a  remarkable 
picture. 

Fisher  closed  the  door  behind  them  and  returned 
to  his  duties  in  the  hall  below.  Ten  minutes 
later  he  heard  the  door  opened  and  the  booming 
voice  of  the  stranger  came  down  to  him.  Fisher 
went  up  the  stairs  to  meet  him  and  found  him 
addressing  the  occupant  of  the  room  in  his  own 
eccentric  fashion. 

"No  more  Patagonia!"  he  roared,  "no  more 
Tierra  del  Fuego!"  he  paused. 

"Certainly!"  He  replied  to  some  question, 
193 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"but  not  Patagonia,"  he  paused  again,  and  Fisher 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  wondered  what 
had  occurred  to  make  the  visitor  so  geniaL 

"I  suppose  your  cheque  will  be  honoured  all 
right*?"  asked  the  visitor  sardonically,  and  then 
burst  into  a  little  chuckle  of  laughter  as  he  care- 
fully closed  the  door. 

He  came  down  the  corridor  talking  to  himself, 
and  greeted  Fisher. 

"Damn  all  Greeks,"  he  said  jovially,  and  Fisher 
could  do  no  more  than  smile  reproachfully,  the 
smile  being  his  very  own,  the  reproach  being  on 
behalf  of  the  master  who  paid  him. 

The  traveller  touched  the  other  on  the  chest 
with  his  right  hand. 

"Never  trust  a  Greek,"  he  said,  "always  get 
your  money  in  advance.     Is  that  clear  to  you^" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Fisher,  "but  I  think  you  will 
always  find  that  Mr.  Kara  is  always  most  gener- 
ous about  money." 

"Don't  you  believe  it,  don't  you  believe  it, 
my  poor  man,"  said  the  other,  "you — " 

194 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

At  that  moment  there  came  from  Kara's  room 
a  faint  "clang." 

"What's  that?"  asked  the  visitor  a  little 
startled. 

"Mr.  Kara's  put  down  his  steel  latch,"  said 
Fisher  with  a  smile,  "which  means  that  he  is  not 
to  be  disturbed  until — "  he  looked  at  his  watch, 
"until  eleven  o'clock  at  any  rate." 

"He's  a  funk!"  snapped  the  other,  "a  beastly 
funk!" 

He  stamped  down  the  stairs  as  though  testing 
the  weight  of  every  tread,  opened  the  front  door 
without  assistance,  slammed  it  behind  him  and 
disappeared  into  the  night. 

Fisher,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looked  after  the 
departing  stranger,  nodding  his  head  in  reproba- 
tion. 

"You're  a  queer  old  devil,"  he  said,  and  looked 
at  his  watch  again. 

It  wanted  five  minutes  to  ten. 


195 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"If  you  would  care  to  come  in,  sir,  I'm  sure  Lex- 
man  would  be  glad  to  see  you,"  said  T.  X. ;  "it's 
very  kind  of  you  to  take  an  interest  in  the  mat- 
ter." 

The  Chief  Commissioner  of  Police  growled 
something  about  being  paid  to  take  an  interest  in 
everybody  and  strolled  with  T.  X.  down  one  of 
the  apparently  endless  corridors  of  Scotland  Yard. 

"You  won't  have  any  bother  about  the  par- 
don," he  said.  "I  was  dining  to-night  with  old 
man  Bartholomew  and  he  will  fix  that  up  in  the 
morning." 

"There  will  be  no  necessity  to  detain  Lexman 
in  custody*?"  asked  T.  X. 

The  Chief  shook  his  head. 

"None  whatever,"  he  said. 

There  was  a  pause,  then, 

"By  the  way,  did  Bartholomew  mention  Be- 
linda Mary*?". 

196 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  white-haired  chief  looked  round  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"And  who  the  devil  is  Belinda  Mary*?"  he 
asked. 

T.  X.  went  red. 

"Belinda  Mary,"  he  said  a  little  quickly,  "is 
Bartholomew's  daughter." 

"By  Jove,"  said  the  Commissioner,  "now  you 
mention  it,  he  did — she  is  still  in  France." 

"Oh,  is  she^"  said  T.  X.  innocently,  and  in  his 
heart  of  hearts  he  wished  most  fervently  that  she 
was.  They  came  to  the  room  which  Mansus  oc- 
cupied and  found  that  admirable  man  waiting. 

Wherever  policemen  meet,  their  conversation 
naturally  drifts  to  "shop"  and  in  two  minutes  the 
three  were  discussing  with  some  animation  and 
much  difference  of  opinion,  as  far  as  T.  X.  was 
concerned,  a  series  of  frauds  which  had  been  per- 
petrated in  the  Midlands,  and  which  have  nothing 
to  do  with  this  story. 

"Your  friend  is  late,"  said  the  Chief  Commis- 
sioner. 

"There  he  is,"  cried  T.  X.,  springing  up.  He 
197 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

heard  a  familiar  footstep  on  the  flagged  corridor, 
and  sprung  out  of  the  room  to  meet  the  newcomer. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  wringing  the  hand  of 
this  grave  man,  his  heart  too  full  for  words. 

"My  dear  chap!"  he  said  at  last,  "you  don't 
know  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you." 

John  Lexman  said  nothing,  then, 

"I  am  sorry  to  bring  you  into  this  business,  T. 
X.,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  other,  "come  in  and  see 
the  Chief." 

He  took  John  by  the  arm  and  led  him  into  the 
Superintendent's  room. 

There  was  a  change  in  John  Lexman.  A  subtle 
shifting  of  balance  which  was  not  readily  discov- 
erable. His  face  was  older,  the  mobile  mouth  a 
little  more  grimly  set,  the  eyes  more  deeply  lined. 
He  was  in  evening  dress  and  looked,  as  T.  X. 
thought,  a  typical,  clean,  English  gentleman,  such 
an  one  as  any  self-respecting  valet  would  be  proud 
to  say  he  had  "turned  out." 

T.  X.  looking  at  him  carefully  could  see  no 
great  change,  save  that  down  one  side  of  his 

198 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

smooth  shaven  cheek  ran  the  scar  of  an  old  woundi 
which  could  not  have  been  much  more  than  super- 
ficial. 

"I  must  apologize  for  this  kit,"  said  John,  tak- 
ing off  his  overcoat  and  laying  it  across  the  back 
of  a  chair,  "but  the  fact  is  I  was  so  bored  this 
evening  that  I  had  to  do  something  to  pass  the 
time  away,  so  I  dressed  and  went  to  the  theatre — 
and  was  more  bored  than  ever." 

T.  X.  noticed  that  he  did  not  smile  and  that 
when  he  spoke  it  was  slowly  and  carefully,  as 
though  he  were  weighing  the  value  of  every  word. 

"Now,"  he  went  on,  "I  have  come  to  deliver 
myself  into  your  hands." 

"I  suppose  you  have  not  seen  Kara*?"  said 
T.  X. 

"I  have  no  desire  to  see  Kara,"  was  the  short 
reply. 

"Well,  Mr.  Lexman,"  broke  in  the  Chief,  "I 
don't  think  you  are  going  to  have  any  difficulty 
about  your  escape.  By  the  way,  I  suppose  it  was 
by  aeroplane?" 

Lexman  nodded. 

199 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"And  you  had  an  assistant*?" 

Again  Lexman  nodded. 

"Unless  you  press  me  I  would  rather  not  dis- 
cuss the  matter  for  some  little  time,  Sir  George,'* 
he  said,  "there  is  much  that  will  happen  before 
the  full  story  of  my  escape  is  made  known." 

Sir  George  nodded. 

"We  will  leave  it  at  that,"  he  said  cheerily, 
"and  now  I  hope  you  have  come  back  to  delight 
us  all  with  one  of  your  wonderful  plots." 

"For  the  time  being  I  have  done  with  wonder- 
ful plots,"  said  John  Lexman  in  that  even,  de- 
liberate tone  of  his.  "I  hope  to  leave  London 
next  week  for  New  York  and  take  up  such  of  the 
threads  of  life  as  remain.  The  greater  thread  has 
gone." 

The  Chief  Commissioner  understood. 

The  silence  which  followed  was  broken  by  the 
loud  and  insistent  ringing  of  the  telephone  bell. 

"Hullo,"  said  Mansus  rising  quickly,  "that's 
Kara's  bell." 

With  two  quick  strides  he  was  at  the  telephone 
and  lifted  down  the  receiver. 

200 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Hullo,"  he  cried.     "Hullo,"  he  cried  again. 

There  was  no  reply,  only  the  continuous  buz- 
zing, and  when  he  hung  up  the  receiver  again,  the 
bell  continued  ringing. 

The  three  policemen  looked  at  one  another. 

"There's  trouble  there,"  said  Mansus. 

"Take  off  the  receiver,"  said  T.  X.,  "and  try 
again." 

Mansus  obeyed,  but  there  was  no  response. 

"I  am  afraid  this  is  not  my  affair,"  said  John 
Lexman  gathering  up  his  coat.  "What  do  you 
wish  me  to  do,  Sir  George^" 

"Come  along  to-morrow  morning  and  see  us, 
Lexman,"  said  Sir  George,  offering  his  hand. 

"\Vhere  are  you  staying?"  asked  T.  X. 

"At  the  Great  Midland,"  replied  the  other,  "at 
least  my  bags  have  gone  on  there." 

"I'll  come  along  and  see  you  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. It's  curious  this  should  have  happened  the 
night  you  returned,"  he  said,  gripping  the  other's 
shoulder  affectionately. 

John  Lexman  did  not  speak  for  the  moment. 

"If  anything  happened  to  Kara,"  he  said 
201 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

slowly,  "if  the  worst  that  was  possible  happened 
to  him,  believe  me  I  should  not  weep," 

T.  X.  looked  down  into  the  other's  eyes  sym- 
pathetically. 

"I  think  he  has  hurt  you  pretty  badly,  old 
man,"  he  said  gently. 

John  Lexman  nodded. 

"He  has,  damn  him,"  he  said  between  his 
teeth. 

The  Chief  Commissioner's  motor  car  was  wait- 
ing outside  and  in  this  T.  X.,  Mansus,  and  a  de- 
tective-sergeant were  whirled  off  to  Cadogan 
Square.  Fisher  was  in  the  hall  when  they  rung 
the  bell  and  opened  the  door  instantly. 

He  was  frankly  surprised  to  see  his  visitors. 
Mr.  Kara  was  in  his  room  he  explained  resent- 
fully, as  though  T.  X.  should  have  been  aware 
of  the  fact  without  being  told.  He  had  heard  no 
bell  ringing  and  indeed  had  not  been  summoned 
to  the  room. 

"I  have  to  see  him  at  eleven  o'clock,"  he  said, 
"and  I  have  had  standing  instructions  not  to  go 
to  him  unless  I  am  sent  for." 

202 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  led  the  way  upstairs,  and  went  straight 
to  Kara's  room.  He  knocked,  but  there  was  no 
reply.  He  knocked  again  and  on  this  failing  to 
evoke  any  response  kicked  heavily  at  the  door. 

"Have  you  a  telephone  downstairs?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Fisher. 

T.  X.  turned  to  the  detective-sergeant. 

"  'Phone  to  the  Yard,"  he  said,  "and  get  a  man 
up  with  a  bag  of  tools.  We  shall  have  to  pick 
this  lock  and  I  haven't  got  my  case  with  me." 

"Picking  the  lock  would  be  no  good,  sir,"  said 
Fisher,  an  interested  spectator,  "Mr.  Kara's  got 
the  latch  down." 

"I  forgot  that,"  said  T.  X.  "Tell  him  to  bring 
his  saw,  we'll  have  to  cut  through  the  panel  here." 

While  they  were  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the 
police  officer  T.  X.  strove  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  inmates  of  the  room,  but  without  success. 

"Does  he  take  opium  or  anything?"  asked 
Mansus. 

Fisher  shook  his  head. 

"I've  never  known  him  to  take  any  of  that  kind 
of  stuff,"  he  said. 

203 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  made  a  rapid  survey  of  the  other  rooms 
on  that  floor.  The  room  next  to  Kara's  was  the 
library,  beyond  that  was  a  dressing  room  which, 
according  to  Fisher,  Miss  Holland  had  used,  and 
at  the  farthermost  end  of  the  corridor  was  the 
dining  room. 

Facing  the  dining  room  was  a  small  service  lift 
and  by  its  side  a  storeroom  in  which  were  a  num- 
ber of  trunks,  including  a  very  large  one  smoth- 
ered in  injunctions  in  three  different  languages  to 
"handle  with  care."  There  was  nothing  else  of 
interest  on  this  floor  and  the  upper  and  lower  floors 
could  wait.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  carpen- 
ter had  arrived  from  Scotland  Yard,  and  had 
bored  a  hole  in  the  rosewood  panel  of  Kara's 
room  and  was  busily  applying  his  slender  saw. 

Through  the  hole  he  cut  T.  X.  could  see  no 
more  than  that  the  room  was  in  darkness  save  for 
the  glow  of  a  blazing  fire.  He  inserted  his  hand, 
groped  for  the  knob  of  the  steel  latch,  which  he 
had  remarked  on  his  previous  visit  to  the  room, 
lifted  it  and  the  door  swung  open. 

"Keep  outside,  everybody,"  he  ordered. 
204 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  felt  for  the  switch  of  the  electric,  found  it 
and  instantly  the  room  was  flooded  with  light. 
The  bed  was  hidden  by  the  open  door.  T.  X. 
took  one  stride  into  the  room  and  saw  enough. 
Kara  was  lying  half  on  and  half  off  the  bed.  He 
was  quite  dead  and  the  blood-stained  patch  above 
his  heart  told  its  own  story. 

T.  X.  stood  looking  down  at  him,  saw  the 
frozen  horror  on  the  dead  man's  face,  then  drew 
his  eyes  away  and  slowly  surveyed  the  room. 
There  in  the  middle  of  the  carpet  he  found  his 
clue,  a  bent  and  twisted  little  candle  such  as  you 
find  on  children's  Christmas  trees. 


5e05 


CHAPTER  XIV 

It  was  Mansus  who  found  the  second  candle,  a 
stouter  affair.  It  lay  underneath  the  bed.  The 
telephone,  which  stood  on  a  fairly  large-sized 
table  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  was  overturned  and 
the  receiver  was  on  the  floor.  By  its  side  were 
two  books,  one  being  the  "Balkan  Question,"  by 
Villari,  and  the  other  "Travels  and  Politics  in  the 
Near  East,"  by  Miller.  With  them  was  a  long, 
ivory  paper-knife. 

There  was  nothing  else  on  the  bedside-table 
save  a  silver  cigarette  box.  T.  X.  drew  on  a  pair 
of  gloves  and  examined  the  bright  surface  for 
finger-prints,  but  a  superficial  view  revealed  no 
such  clue. 

"Open  the  window,"  said  T.  X.,  "the  heat  here 
is  intolerable.  Be  very  careful,  Mansus.  By  the 
way,  is  the  window  fastened?" 

"Very  well  fastened,"  said  the  superintendent 
after  a  careful  scrutiny. 

S06 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  pushed  back  the  fastenings,  lifted  the  win- 
dow and  as  he  did,  a  harsh  bell  rang  in  the  base- 
ment. 

"That  is  the  burglar  alarm,  I  suppose,"  said 
T.  X. ;  "go  down  and  stop  that  bell." 

He  addressed  Fisher,  who  stood  with  a  troubled 
face  at  the  door.  When  he  had  disappeared  T. 
X.  gave  a  significant  glance  to  one  of  the  wait- 
ing officers  and  the  man  sauntered  after  the 
valet. 

Fisher  stopped  the  bell  and  came  back  to  the 
hall  and  stood  before  the  hall  fire,  a  very  troubled 
man.  Near  the  fire  was  a  big,  oaken  writing 
table  and  on  this  there  lay  a  small  envelope  which 
he  did  not  remember  having  seen  before,  though  it 
might  have  been  there  for  some  time,  for  he  had 
spent  a  greater  portion  of  the  evening  in  the 
kitchen  with  the  cook. 

He  picked  up  the  envelope,  and,  with  a  start, 
recognised  that  it  was  addressed  to  himself.  He 
opened  it  and  took  out  a  card.  There  were  only 
a  few  words  written  upon  it,  but  they  were  suffi- 
cient to  banish  all  the  colour  from  his  face  and 

207 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

set  his  hands  shaking.     He  took  the  envelope  and 
card  and  flung  them  into  the  fire. 

It  so  happened  that,  at  that  moment,  Mansus 
had  called  from  upstairs,  and  the  officer,  who  had 
been  told  off  to  keep  the  valet  under  observation, 
ran  up  in  answer  to  the  summons.  For  a  moment 
Fisher  hesitated,  then  hatless  and  coatless  as  he 
was,  he  crept  to  the  door,  opened  it,  leaving  it  ajar 
behind  him  and  darting  down  the  steps,  ran  like 
a  hare  from  the  house. 

The  doctor,  who  came  a  little  later,  was  cau- 
tious as  to  the  hour  of  death. 

*Tf  you  got  your  telephone  message  at  10.25,  ^^ 
you  say,  that  was  probably  the  hour  he  was 
killed,"  he  said.  "I  could  not  tell  within  half 
an  hour.  Obviously  the  man  who  killed  him 
gripped  his  throat  with  his  left  hand — there  are 
the  bruises  on  his  neck — and  stabbed  him  with 
the  right." 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  disappearance  of 
Fisher  was  noticed,  but  the  cross-examination  of 
the  terrified  Mrs.  Beale  removed  any  doubt  that 
T.  X.  had  as  to  the  man's  guilt. 

208 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  had  better  send  out  an  'AH  Stations' 
message  and  pull  him  in,"  said  T.  X.  "He  was 
with  the  cook  from  the  moment  the  visitor  left 
until  a  few  minutes  before  we  rang.  Besides 
which  it  is  obviously  impossible  for  anybody  to 
have  got  into  this  room  or  out  again.  Have  you 
searched  the  dead  man*?" 

Mansus  produced  a  tray  on  which  Kara's  be- 
longings had  been  disposed.  The  ordinary  keys 
Mrs.  Beale  was  able  to  identify.  There  were 
one  or  two  which  were  beyond  her.  T.  X.  recog- 
nised one  of  these  as  the  key  of  the  safe,  but  two 
smaller  keys  baffled  him  not  a  little,  and  Mrs. 
Beale  was  at  first  unable  to  assist  him. 

"The  only  thing  I  can  think  of,  sir,"  she  said, 
"is  the  wine  cellar." 

"The  wine  cellar^"  said  T.  X.  slowly.  "That 
must  be — "  he  stopped. 

The  greater  tragedy  of  the  evening,  with  all  its 
mystifying  aspects  had  not  banished  from  his 
mind  the  thought  of  the  girl — that  Belinda  Mary, 
who  had  called  upon  him  in  her  hour  of  danger  as 
he    divined.     Perhaps — he    descended    into    the 

209 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

kitchen  and  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  un- 
painted  door. 

"It  looks  more  like  a  prison  than  a  wine  cellar/' 
he  said. 

"That's  what  I've  always  thought,  sir,"  said 
Mrs.  Beale,  "and  sometimes  I've  had  a  horrible 
feeling  of  fear." 

He  cut  short  her  loquacity  by  inserting  one  of 
the  keys  in  the  lock — it  did  not  turn,  but  he  had 
more  success  with  the  second.  The  lock  snapped 
back  easily  and  he  pulled  the  door  back.  He 
found  the  inner  door  bolted  top  and  bottom. 
The  bolts  slipped  back  in  their  well-oiled  sockets 
without  any  effort.  Evidently  Kara  used  this 
place  pretty  frequently,  thought  T.  X. 

He  pushed  the  door  open  and  stopped  with  an 
exclamation  of  surprise.  The  cellar  apartment 
was  brilliantly  lit — but  it  was  unoccupied. 

"This  beats  the  band,"  said  T.  X. 

He  saw  something  on  the  table  and  lifted  it  up. 
It  was  a  pair  of  long-bladed  scissors  and  about 
the  handle  was  wound  a  handkerchief.  It  was 
not  this  fact  which  startled  him,  but  that  the  scis- 

210 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

sors'  blades  were  dappled  with  blood  and  blood, 
too,  was  on  the  handkerchief.  He  unwound  the 
flimsy  piece  of  cambric  and  stared  at  the  mono- 
gram "B.  M.  B." 

He  looked  around.  Nobody  had  seen  the  wea- 
pon and  he  dropped  it  in  his  overcoat  pocket,  and 
walked  from  the  cellar  to  the  kitchen  where  Mrs. 
Beale  and  Mansus  awaited  him. 

"There  is  a  lower  cellar,  is  there  not*?"  he  asked 
in  a  strained  voice. 

"That  was  bricked  up  when  Mr.  Kara  took  the 
house,"  explained  the  woman. 

"There  is  nothing  more  to  look  for  here,"  he 
said. 

He  walked  slowly  up  the  stairs  to  the  library, 
his  mind  in  a  whirl.  That  he,  an  accredited  of- 
ficer of  police,  sworn  to  the  business  of  criminal 
detection,  should  attempt  to  screen  one  who  was 
conceivably  a  criminal  was  inexplicable.  But  if 
the  girl  had  committed  this  crime,  how  had  she 
reached  Kara's  room  and  why  had  she  returned  to 
the  locked  cellar^ 

He  sent  for  Mrs.  Beale  to  interrogate  her.  She 
211 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

had  heard  nothing  and  she  had  been  in  the  kitchen 
all  the  evening.  One  fact  she  did  reveal,  how- 
ever, that  Fisher  had  gone  from  the  kitchen  and 
had  been  absent  a  quarter  of  an  hour  and  had  re- 
turned a  little  agitated. 

"Stay  here,"  said  T.  X.,  and  went  down  again 
to  the  cellar  to  make  a  further  search. 

"Probably  there  is  some  way  out  of  this  sub- 
terranean jail,"  he  thought  and  a  diligent  search 
of  the  room  soon  revealed  it. 

He  found  the  iron  trap,  pulled  it  open,  and 
slipped  down  the  stairs.  He,  too,  was  puzzled  by 
the  luxurious  character  of  the  vault.  He  passed 
from  room  to  room  and  finally  came  to  the  inner 
chamber  where  a  light  was  burning. 

The  light,  as  he  discovered,  proceeded  from  a 
small  reading  lamp  which  stood  by  the  side  of  a 
small  brass  bedstead.  The  bed  had  recently  been 
slept  in,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  any  occupant. 
T.  X.  conducted  a  very  careful  search  and  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  the  bricked  up  door.  Other 
exits  there  were  none. 

The  floor  was  of  wood  block  laid  on  concrete, 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  ventilation  was  excellent  and  in  one  of  the 
recesses  which  had  evidently  held  at  some  time  or 
other,  a  large  wine  bin,  there  was  a  perfect  electri- 
cal cooking  plant.  In  a  small  larder  were  a  num- 
ber of  baskets,  bearing  the  name  of  a  well-known 
caterer,  one  of  them  containing  an  excellent  as- 
sortment of  cold  and  potted  meats,  preserves,  etc. 

T.  X.  went  back  to  the  bedroom  and  took  the 
little  lamp  from  the  table  by  the  side  of  the  bed 
and  began  a  more  careful  examination.  Pres- 
ently he  found  traces  of  blood,  and  followed  an 
irregular  trail  to  the  outer  room.  He  lost  it  sud- 
denly at  the  foot  of  stairs  leading  down  from  the 
upper  cellar.  Then  he  struck  it  again.  He  had 
reached  the  end  of  his  electric  cord  and  was  now 
depending  upon  an  electric  torch  he  had  taken 
from  his  pocket. 

There  were  indications  of  something  heavy  hav- 
ing been  dragged  across  the  room  and  he  saw  that 
it  led  to  a  small  bathroom.  He  had  made  a  cur- 
sory examination  of  this  well-appointed  apart- 
ment, and  now  he  proceeded  to  make  a  close  inves- 
tigation and  was  well  rewarded. 

213 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  bathroom  was  the  only  apartment  which 
possessed  anything  resembling  a  door — a  two-fold 
screen — and  as  he  pressed  this  back,  he  felt  some- 
thing which  prevented  its  wider  extension.  He 
slipped  into  the  room  and  flashed  his  lamp  in  the 
space  behind  the  screen.  There  stiff  in  death 
with  glazed  eyes  and  lolling  tongue  lay  a  great 
gaunt  dog,  his  yellow  fangs  exposed  in  a  last 
grimace. 

About  the  neck  was  a  collar  and  attached  to 
that,  a  few  links  of  broken  chain.  T.  X. 
mounted  the  steps  thoughtfully  and  passed  out  to 
the  kitchen. 

Did  Belinda  Mary  stab  Kara  or  kill  the  dog? 
That  she  killed  one  hound  or  the  other  was  cer- 
tain.    That  she  killed  both  was  possible. 


214 


CHAPTER  XV 

After  a  busy  and  sleepless  night  he  came  down 
to  report  to  the  Chief  Commissioner  the  next 
morning.  The  evening  newspaper  bills  were 
filled  with  the  "Chelsea  Sensation"  but  the  infor- 
mation given  was  of  a  meagre  character. 

Since  Fisher  had  disappeared,  many  of  the  de- 
tails which  could  have  been  secured  by  the  enter- 
prising pressmen  were  missing.  There  was  no 
reference  to  the  visit  of  Mr.  Gathercole  and  in 
self-defence  the  press  had  fallen  back  upon  a 
statement,  which  at  an  earlier  period  had  crept 
into  the  newspapers  in  one  of  those  chatty  para- 
graphs which  begin  "I  saw  my  friend  Kara  at 
Ciros"  and  end  with  a  brief  but  inaccurate  sum- 
mary of  his  hobbies.  The  paragraph  had  been 
to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Kara  had  been  in  fear  of  his 
life  for  some  time,  as  a  result  of  a  blood  feud 
which  existed  between  himself  and  another  Al- 
banian   family.     Small    wonder,    therefore,    the 

215 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

murder  was  everywhere  referred  to  as  "the  politi- 
cal crime  of  the  century." 

"So  far,"  reported  T.  X.  to  his  superior,  "I 
have  been  unable  to  trace  either  Gathcrcole  or  the 
valet.  The  only  thing  we  know  about  Gather- 
cole  is  that  he  sent  his  article  to  The  Times  with 
his  card.  The  servants  of  his  Club  are  very 
vague  as  to  his  whereabouts.  He  is  a  very  ec- 
centric man,  who  only  comes  in  occasionally,  and 
the  steward  whom  I  interviewed  says  that  it  fre- 
quently happened  that  Gathercole  arrived  and 
departed  without  anybody  being  aware  of  the 
fact.  We  have  been  to  his  old  lodgings  in  Lin- 
coln's Inn,  but  apparently  he  sold  up  there  before 
he  went  away  to  the  wilds  of  Patagonia  and  re- 
linquished his  tenancy. 

"The  only  clue  I  have  is  that  a  man  answering 
to  some  extent  to  his  description  left  by  the  eleven 
o'clock  train  for  Paris  last  night." 

"You  have  seen  the  secretary  of  course,"  said 
the  Chief. 

It  was  a  question  which  T.  X.  had  been  dread- 
ing. 

216 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Gone  too,"  he  answered  shortly;  "in  fact  she 
has  not  been  seen  since  5.30  yesterday  evening." 

Sir  George  leant  back  in  his  chair  and  rumpled 
his  thick  grey  hair. 

"The  only  person  who  seems  to  have  re- 
mained," he  said  with  heavy  sarcasm,  "was  Kara 
himself.  Would  you  like  me  to  put  somebody 
else  on  this  case — it  isn't  exactly  your  job — or 
will  you  carry  it  on*?" 

"I  prefer  to  carry  it  on,  sir,"  said  T.  X.  firmly. 

"Have  you  found  out  anything  more  about 
Kara^" 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"All  that  I  have  discovered  about  him  is  emi- 
nently discreditable,"  he  said.  "He  seems  to 
have  had  an  ambition  to  occupy  a  very  important 
position  in  Albania.  To  this  end  he  had  bribed 
and  subsidized  the  Turkish  and  Albanian  officials 
and  had  a  fairly  large  following  in  that  country. 
Bartholomew  tells  me  that  Kara  had  already 
sounded  him  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  British 
Government  recognising  a  fait  accompli  in  Al- 
bania and  had  been  inducing  him  to  use  his  influ- 

217 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ence  with  the  Cabinet  to  recognize  the  conse- 
quence of  any  revolution.  There  is  no  doubt 
whatever  that  Kara  has  engineered  all  the  politi- 
cal assassinations  which  have  been  such  a  feature 
in  the  news  from  Albania  during  this  past  year. 
We  also  found  in  the  house  very  large  sums  of 
money  and  documents  which  we  have  handed  over 
to  the  Foreign  Office  for  decoding." 

Sir  George  thought  for  a  long  time. 

Then  he  said,  "I  have  an  idea  that  if  you  find 
your  secretary  you  will  be  half  way  to  solving  the 
mystery." 

T.  X.  went  out  from  the  office  in  anything  but 
a  joyous  mood.  He  was  on  his  way  to  lunch 
when  he  remembered  his  promise  to  call  upon 
John  Lexman. 

Could  Lexman  supply  a  key  which  would  un- 
ravel this  tragic  tangle?  He  leant  out  of  his 
taxi-cab  and  re-dirccted  the  driver.  It  happened 
that  the  cab  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  Great 
Midland  Hotel  as  John  Lexman  was  coming  out. 

*'Come  and  lunch  with  me,"  said  T.  X.  "1 
suppose  you've  heard  all  the  news." 

218 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  read  about  Kara  being  killed,  if  that's  what 
you  mean,"  said  the  other.  "It  was  rather  a  co- 
incidence that  I  should  have  been  discussing  the 
matter  last  night  at  the  very  moment  when  his  tel- 
ephone bell  rang — I  wish  to  heaven  you  hadn't 
been  in  this,"  he  said  fretfully. 

"Why*?"  asked  the  astonished  Assistant  Com- 
missioner, "and  what  do  you  mean  by  'in  it'  *?" 

"In  the  concrete  sense  I  wish  you  had  not  been 
present  when  I  retumed,"  said  the  other  mood- 
ily, "I  wanted  to  be  finished  with  the  whole  sordid 
business  without  in  any  way  involving  my 
friends." 

"I  think  you  are  too  sensitive,"  laughed  the 
other,  clapping  him  on  the  shoulder.  "I  want 
you  to  unburden  yourself  to  me,  my  dear  chap, 
and  tell  me  anything  you  can  that  will  help  me  to 
clear  up  this  mystery." 

John  Lexman  looked  straight  ahead  with  a 
worried  frown. 

"I  would  do  almost  anything  for  you,  T.  X.," 
he  said  quietly,  "the  more  so  since  I  know  how 
good  you  were  to  Grace,  but  I  can't  help  you  in 

219 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

this  matter.  I  hated  Kara  living,  I  hate  him 
dead,"  he  cried,  and  there  was  a  passion  in  his 
voice  which  was  unmistakable;  "he  was  the  vilest 
thing  that  ever  drew  the  breath  of  life.  There 
was  no  villainy  too  despicable,  no  cruelty  so  hor- 
rid but  that  he  gloried  in  it.  If  ever  the  devil 
were  incarnate  on  earth  he  took  the  shape  and  the 
form  of  Remington  Kara.  He  died  too  merciful 
a  death  by  all  accounts.  But  if  there  is  a  God, 
this  man  will  suffer  for  his  crimes  in  hell  through 
all  eternity." 

T.  X.  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  The 
hate  in  the  man's  face  took  his  breath  away. 
Never  before  had  he  experienced  or  witnessed  such 
a  vehemence  of  loathing. 

"What  did  Kara  do  to  you*?"  he  demanded. 

The  other  looked  out  of  the  window. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said  in  a  milder  tone;  "that 
is  my  weakness.  Some  day  I  will  tell  you  the 
whole  story  but  for  the  moment  it  were  better 
that  it  were  not  told.  I  will  tell  you  this,"  he 
turned  round  and  faced  the  detective  squarely, 
"Kara  tortured  and  killed  my  wife." 

2^0 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

T.  X.  said  no  more. 

Half  way  through  lunch  he  returned  indirectly 
to  the  subject. 

"Do  you  know  Gathercole^"  he  asked. 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"I  think  you  asked  me  that  question  once  be- 
fore, or  perhaps  it  was  somebody  else.  Yes,  I 
know  him,  rather  an  eccentric  man  with  an  arti- 
ficial arm." 

"That's  the  cove,"  said  T.  X.  with  a  little  sigh ; 
"he's  one  of  the  few  men  I  want  to  meet  just 
now." 

"Why?' 

"Because  he  was  apparently  the  last  man  to  see 
Kara  alive." 

John  Lexman  looked  at  the  other  with  an  im- 
patient jerk  of  his  shoulders. 

"You  don't  suspect  Gathercole,  do  you*?"  he 
asked. 

"Hardly,"  said  the  other  drily;  "in  the  first 
place  the  man  that  committed  this  murder  had 
two  hands  and  needed  them  both.  No,  I  only 
want  to  ask  that  gentleman  the  subject  of  his 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

conversation.  I  also  want  to  know  who  was  in 
the  room  with  Kara  when  Gathercole  went  in." 

"H'm,"  said  John  Lexman. 

"Even  if  I  found  who  the  third  person  was,  I 
am  still  puzzled  as  to  how  they  got  out  and  fas- 
tened the  heavy  latch  behind  them.  Now  in  the 
old  days,  Lexman,"  he  said  good  humouredly, 
"you  would  have  made  a  fine  mystery  story  out  of 
this.  How  would  you  have  made  your  man 
escape*?" 

Lexman  thought  for  a  while. 

"Have  you  examined  the  safe?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  the  other. 

"Was  there  very  much  in  it*?" 

T.  X.  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"Just  the  ordinary  books  and  things.  Why  do 
you  ask'?" 

"Suppose  there  were  two  doors  to  that  safe,  one 
on  the  outside  of  the  room  and  one  on  the  inside, 
would  it  be  possible  to  pass  through  the  safe  and 
go  down  the  wall?" 

"I  have  thought  of  that,"  said  T.  X. 

"Of  course,"  said  Lexman,  leaning  back  and 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

toying  with  a  salt-spoon,  "in  writing  a  story  where 
one  hasn't  got  to  deal  with  the  absolute  possibili- 
ties, one  could  always  have  made  Kara  have  a 
safe  of  that  character  in  order  to  make  his  escape 
in  the  event  of  danger.  He  might  keep  a  rope 
ladder  stored  inside,  open  the  back  door,  throw 
out  his  ladder  to  a  friend  and  by  some  trick  ar- 
rangement could  detach  the  ladder  and  allow  the 
door  to  swing  to  again." 

"A  very  ingenious  idea,"  said  T.  X.,  "but  un- 
fortunately it  doesn't  work  in  this  case.  I  have 
seen  the  makers  of  the  safe  and  there  is  nothing 
very  eccentric  about  it  except  the  fact  that  it  is 
mounted  as  it  is.  Can  you  offer  another  sugges- 
tion'?" 

John  Lexman  thought  again. 

"I  will  not  suggest  trap  doors,  or  secret  panels 
or  anything  so  banal,"  he  said,  "nor  mysterious 
springs  in  the  wall  which,  when  touched,  reveal 
secret  staircases." 

He  smiled  slightly. 

"In  my  early  days,  I  must  confess  I  was  rather 
keen  upon  that  sort  of  thing,  but  age  has  brought 

223 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

experience  and  I  have  discovered  the  impossibility 
of  bringing  an  architect  to  one's  way  of  thinking 
even  in  so  commonplace  a  matter  as  the  position 
of  a  scullery.  It  would  be  much  more  difficult  to 
induce  him  to  construct  a  house  with  double  walls 
and  secret  chambers." 

T.  X.  waited  patiently. 

"There  is  a  possibility,  of  course,"  said  Lex- 
man  slowly,  "that  the  steel  latch  may  have  been 
raised  by  somebody  outside  by  some  ingenious 
magnetic  arrangement  and  lowered  in  a  similar 
manner." 

"I  have  thought  about  it,"  said  T.  X.  trium- 
phantly, "and  I  have  made  the  most  elaborate 
tests  only  this  morning.  It  is  quite  impossible  to 
raise  the  steel  latch  because  once  it  is  dropped  it 
cannot  be  raised  again  except  by  means  of  the 
knob,  the  pulling  of  which  releases  the  catch 
which  holds  the  bar  securely  in  its  place.  Try 
another  one,  John." 

John  Lexman  threw  back  his  head  in  a  noiseless 
laugh. 

"Why  I  should  be  helping  you  to  discover  the 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

murderer  of  Kara  is  beyond  my  understanding," 
he  said,  "but  I  will  give  you  another  theory,  at 
the  same  time  warning  you  that  I  may  be  putting 
you  off  the  track.  For  God  knows  I  have  more 
reason  to  murder  Kara  than  any  man  in  the 
world!" 

He  thought  a  while. 

"The  chimney  was  of  course  impossible^" 

"There  was  a  big  fire  burning  in  the  grate,"  ex- 
plained T.  X. ;  "so  big  indeed  that  the  room  was 
stifling." 

John  Lexman  nodded. 

"That  was  Kara's  way,"  he  said;  "as  a  matter 
of  fact  I  know  the  suggestion  about  magnetism  in 
the  steel  bar  was  impossible,  because  I  was 
friendly  with  Kara  when  he  had  that  bar  put  in 
and  pretty  well  know  the  mechanism,  although  I 
had  forgotten  it  for  the  moment.  What  is  your 
own  theory,  by  the  way?" 

T.  X.  pursed  his  lips. 

"My  theory  isn't  very  clearly  formed,"  he  said 
cautiously,  "but  so  far  as  it  goes,  it  is  that  Kara 
was  lying  on  the  bed  probably  reading  one  of  the 

S25 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

books  which  were  found  by  the  bedside  when  his 
assailant  suddenly  came  upon  him.  Kara  seized 
the  telephone  to  call  for  assistance  and  was 
promptly  killed." 

Again  there  was  silence. 

"That  is  a  theory,"  said  John  Lexman  with 
his  curious  deliberation  of  speech,  "but  as  I 
say  I  refuse  to  be  definite — have  you  found  the 
weapon  ■?" 

T.  X.  shook  his  head. 

"Were  there  any  peculiar  features  about  the 
room  which  astonished  you,  and  which  you  have 
not  told  me?" 

T.  X.  hesitated. 

"There  were  two  candles,"  he  said,  "one  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  and  one  under  the  bed.  That 
in  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  small  Christmas 
candle,  the  one  under  the  bed  was  the  ordinary 
candle  of  commerce  evidently  roughly  cut  and 
probably  cut  in  the  room.  We  found  traces  of 
candle  chips  on  the  floor  and  it  is  evident  to  me  that 
the  portion  which  was  cut  off  was  thrown  into  the 
fire,  for  here  again  we  have  a  trace  of  grease." 

226 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Lexman  nodded. 

"Anything  further'?"  he  asked. 

"The  smaller  candle  was  twisted  into  a  sort  of 
corkscrew  shape." 

"The  Clue  of  the  Twisted  Candle,"  mused 
John  Lexman,  "that's  a  very  good  title — Kara 
hated  candles." 

"Why?" 

Lexman  leant  back  in  his  chair,  selected  a  cigar- 
ette from  a  silver  case. 

"In  my  wanderings,"  he  said,  "I  have  been  to 
many  strange  places.  I  have  been  to  the  country 
which  you  probably  do  not  know,  and  which  the 
traveller  who  writes  books  about  countries  seldom 
visits.  There  are  queer  little  villages  perched  on 
the  spurs  of  the  bleakest  hills  you  ever  saw.  I 
have  lived  with  communities  which  acknowledge 
no  king  and  no  government.  These  have  their 
laws  handed  down  to  them  from  father  to  son — it 
is  a  nation  without  a  written  language.  They  ad- 
minister their  laws  rigidly  and  drastically.  The 
punishments  they  award  are  cruel — inhuman.  I 
have  seen  the  woman  taken  in  adultery  stoned  to 

227 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

death  as  in  the  best  Biblical  traditions,  and  I  have 
seen  the  thief  blinded." 

T.  X.  shivered. 

"I  have  seen  the  false  witness  stand  up  in  a 
barbaric  market  place  whilst  his  tongue  was  torn 
from  him.  Sometimes  the  Turks  or  the  piebald 
governments  of  the  state  sent  down  a  few  gen- 
darmes and  tried  a  sort  of  sporadic  administration 
of  the  country.  It  usually  ended  in  the  represen- 
tative of  the  law  lapsing  into  barbarism,  or  else 
disappearing  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  with  a 
whole  community  of  murderers  eager  to  testify, 
with  singular  unanimity,  to  the  fact  that  he  had 
either  committed  suicide  or  had  gone  off  with  the 
wife  of  one  of  the  townsmen. 

"In  some  of  these  communities  the  candle  plays 
a  big  part.  It  is  not  the  candle  of  commerce  as 
you  know  it,  but  a  dip  made  from  mutton  fat. 
Strap  three  between  the  fingers  of  your  hands  and 
keep  the  hand  rigid  with  two  flat  pieces  of  wood; 
then  let  the  candles  burn  down  lower  and  lower — 
can  you  imagine  ?  Or  set  a  candle  in  a  gunpowder 
trail  and  lead  the  trail  to  a  well-oiled  heap  of 

!2«8 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

shavings  thoughtfully  heaped  about  your  naked 
feet.  Or  a  candle  fixed  to  the  shaved  head  of  a 
man — there  are  hundreds  of  variations  and  the 
candle  plays  a  part  in  all  of  them.  I  don't  know 
which  Kara  had  cause  to  hate  the  worst,  but  I 
know  one  or  two  that  he  has  employed." 

"Was  he  as  bad  as  that*?"  asked  T.  X. 

John  Lexman  laughed. 

"You  don't  know  how  bad  he  was,"  he  said. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  luncheon  the  waiter 
brought  a  note  in  to  T.  X.  which  had  been  sent  on 
from  his  ofBce. 

"Dear  Mr.  Meredith, 

"In  answer  to  your  enquiry  I  believe  my  daughter  is 
in  London,  but  I  did  not  know  it  until  this  morning.  My 
banker  informs  me  that  my  daughter  called  at  the  bank 
this  morning  and  drew  a  considerable  sum  of  money 
from  her  private  account,  but  where  she  has  gone  and 
what  she  is  doing  with  the  money  I  do  not  know.  I  need 
hardly  tell  you  that  I  am  very  worried  about  this  matter 
and  I  should  be  glad  if  you  could  explain  what  it  is  all 
about." 

It  was  signed  "William  Bartholomew." 
T.  X.  groaned. 

"If  I  had  only  had  the  sense  to  go  to  the  bank 
229 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

this  morning,  I  should  have  seen  her,"  he  said. 
*T'm  going  to  lose  my  job  over  this." 

The  other  looked  troubled. 

"You  don't  seriously  mean  that?" 

"Not  exactly,"  smiled  T.  X.,  "but  I  don't  think 
the  Chief  is  very  pleased  with  me  just  now.  You 
see  I  have  butted  into  this  business  without  any 
authority — it  isn't  exactly  in  my  department. 
But  you  have  not  given  me  your  theory  about  the 
candles." 

*T  have  no  theory  to  offer,"  said  the  other,  fold- 
ing up  his  serviette;  "the  candles  suggest  a  typical 
Albanian  murder.  I  do  not  say  that  it  was  so,  I 
merely  say  that  by  their  presence  they  suggest  a 
crime  of  this  character." 

With  this  T.  X.  had  to  be  content. 

If  it  were  not  his  business  to  interest  himself  in 
commonplace  murder — though  this  hardly  fitted 
such  a  description — it  was  part  of  the  peculiar 
function  which  his  department  exercised  to  re- 
store to  Lady  Bartholomew  a  certain  very  elabor- 
ate snuff-box  which  he  discovered  in  the  safe. 


THE  CLUE  OP  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Letters  had  been  found  amongst  his  papers  which 
made  clear  the  part  which  Kara  had  played. 
Though  he  had  not  been  a  vulgar  blackmailer  he 
had  retained  his  hold,  not  only  upon  this  particu- 
lar property  of  Lady  Bartholomew,  but  upon  cer- 
tain other  articles  which  were  discovered,  with  no 
other  object,  apparently,  than  to  compel  influence 
from  quarters  likely  to  be  of  assistance  to  him  in 
his  schemes. 

The  inquest  on  the  murdered  man  which  the 
Assistant  Commissioner  attended  produced  noth- 
ing in  the  shape  of  evidence  and  the  coroner's  ver- 
dict of  "murder  against  some  person  or  persons 
unknown"  was  only  to  be  expected. 

T.  X.  spent  a  very  busy  and  a  very  tiring  week 
tracing  elusive  clues  which  led  him  nowhere.  He 
had  a  letter  from  John  Lexman  announcing  the 
fact  that  he  intended  leaving  for  the  United 
States.  He  had  received  a  very  good  offer  from 
a  firm  of  magazine  publishers  in  New  York  and 
was  going  out  to  take  up  the  appointment. 

Meredith's  plans  were  now  in  fair  shape.  He 
231 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

had  decided  upon  the  line  of  action  he  would  take 
and  in  the  pursuance  of  this  he  interviewed  his 
Chief  and  the  Minister  of  Justice. 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  from  my  daughter,"  said 
that  great  man  uncomfortably,  "and  really  she 
has  placed  me  in  a  most  embarrassing  position.  I 
cannot  tell  you,  Mr.  Meredith,  exactly  in  what 
manner  she  has  done  this,  but  I  can  assure  you  she 
has." 

"Can  I  see  her  letter  or  telegram^"  asked  T.  X. 

"I  am  afraid  that  is  impossible,"  said  the  other 
solemnly;  "she  begged  me  to  keep  her  communi- 
cation very  secret.  I  have  written  to  my  wife  and 
asked  her  to  come  home.  I  feel  the  constant 
strain  to  which  I  am  being  subjected  is  more  than 
human  man  can  endure." 

"I  suppose,"  said  T.  X.  patiently,  "it  is  impos- 
sible for  you  to  tell  me  to  what  address  you  have 
replied?" 

"To  no  address,"  answered  the  other  and  cor- 
rected himself  hurriedly;  "that  is  to  say  I  only  re- 
ceived the  telegram — the  message  this  morning 
and  there  is  no  address — to  reply  to." 

S32 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  see,"  said  T.  X. 

That  afternoon  he  instructed  his  secretary. 

"I  want  a  copy  of  all  the  agony  advertisements 
in  to-morrow's  papers  and  in  the  last  editions  of 
the  evening  papers — have  them  ready  for  me  to- 
morrow morning  when  I  come." 

They  were  waiting  for  him  when  he  reached 
the  office  at  nine  o'clock  the  next  day  and  he  went 
through  them  carefully.  Presently  he  found  the 
message  he  was  seeking. 

B.  M.  You  place  me  awkward  position.  Very 
thoughtless.  Have  received  package  addressed  your 
mother  which  have  placed  in  mother's  sitting-room.  Can- 
not understand  why  you  want  me  to  go  away  week-end 
and  give  servants  holiday  but  have  done  so.  Shall  re- 
quire very  full  explanation.  Matter  gone  far  enough. 
Father. 

"This,"  said  T.  X.  exultantly,  as  he  read  the 
advertisement,  "is  where  I  get  busy." 


1233 


CHAPTER  XVI 

February  as  a  rule  is  not  a  month  of  fogs,  but 
rather  a  month  of  tempestuous  gales,  of  frosts  and 
snowfalls,  but  the  night  of  February  17th,  19 — , 
was  one  of  calm  and  mist.  It  was  not  the  typical 
London  fog  so  dreaded  by  the  foreigner,  but  one 
of  those  little  patchy  mists  which  smoke  through 
the  streets,  now  enshrouding  and  making  the  near- 
est object  invisible,  now  clearing  away  to  the  finest 
diaphanous  filament  of  pale  grey. 

Sir  William  Bartholomew  had  a  house  in  Port- 
man  Place,  which  is  a  wide  thoroughfare,  filled 
with  solemn  edifices  of  unlovely  and  forbidding 
exterior,  but  remarkably  comfortable  within. 
Shortly  before  eleven  on  the  night  of  February 
17th,  a  taxi  drew  up  at  the  junction  of  Sussex 
.Street  and  Portman  Place,  and  a  girl  alighted. 
The  fog  at  that  moment  was  denser  than  usual 
and  she  hesitated  a  moment  before  she  left  the 
shelter  which  the  cab  afforded. 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

She  gave  the  driver  a  few  instructions  and 
walked  on  with  a  firm  step,  turning  abruptly  and 
mounting  the  steps  of  Number  173.  Very 
quickly  she  inserted  her  key  in  the  lock,  pushed  the 
door  open  and  closed  it  behind  her.  She  switched 
on  the  hall  light.  The  house  sounded  hollow  and 
deserted,  a  fact  which  afforded  her  considerable 
satisfaction.  She  turned  the  light  out  and  found 
her  way  up  the  broad  stairs  to  the  first  floor, 
paused  for  a  moment  to  switch  on  another  light 
which  she  knew  would  not  be  observable  from  the 
street  outside  and  mounted  the  second  flight. 

Miss  Belinda  Mary  Bartholomew  congratu- 
lated herself  upon  the  success  of  her  scheme,  and 
the  only  doubt  that  was  in  her  mind  now  was 
whether  the  boudoir  had  been  locked,  but  her 
father  was  rather  careless  in  such  matters  and 
Jacks  the  butler  was  one  of  those  dear,  silly,  old 
men  who  never  locked  anything,  and,  in  conse- 
quence, faced  every  audit  with  a  long  face  and  a 
longer  tale  of  the  peculations  of  occasional  ser- 
vants. 

To  her  immense  relief  the  handle  turned  and 
235 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  door  opened  to  her  touch.  Somebody  had 
had  the  sense  to  pull  down  the  blinds  and  the  cur- 
tains were  drawn.  She  switched  on  the  light 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  Her  mother's  writing  table 
was  covered  with  unopened  letters,  but  she 
brushed  these  aside  in  her  search  for  the  little  par- 
cel. It  was  not  there  and  her  heart  sank.  Per- 
haps she  had  put  it  in  one  of  the  drawers.  She 
tried  them  all  without  result. 

She  stood  by  the  desk  a  picture  of  perplexity, 
biting  a  finger  thoughtfully. 

"Thank  goodness!"  she  said  with  a  jump,  for 
she  saw  the  parcel  on  the  mantel  shelf,  crossed  the 
room  and  took  it  down. 

With  eager  hands  she  tore  off  the  covering  and 
came  to  the  familiar  leather  case.  Not  until  she 
had  opened  the  padded  lid  and  had  seen  the  snuff- 
box reposing  in  a  bed  of  cotton  wool  did  she  re- 
lapse into  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 

"Thank  heaven  for  that,"  she  said  aloud. 

"And  me,"  said  a  voice. 

She  sprang  up  and  turned  round  with  a  look  of 
terror. 

S36 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Mr. — Mr.  Meredith,"  she  stammered. 

T.  X.  stood  by  the  window  curtains  from 
whence  he  had  made  his  dramatic  entry  upon  the 
scene. 

"I  say  you  have  to  thank  me  also,  Miss  Barthol- 
omew," he  said  presently. 

"How  do  you  know  my  name?"  she  asked  with 
some  curiosity. 

"I  know  everything  in  the  world,"  he  answered, 
and  she  smiled.  Suddenly  her  face  went  serious 
and  she  demanded  sharply : 

"Who  sent  you  after  me — Mr.  Kara*?" 

"Mr.  Kara?"  he  repeated,  in  wonder. 

"He  threatened  to  send  for  the  police,"  she 
went  on  rapidly,  "and  I  told  him  he  might  do  so. 
I  didn't  mind  the  police — it  was  Kara  I  was 
afraid  of.  You  know  what  I  went  for,  my  moth- 
er's property." 

She  held  the  snuff-box  in  her  outstretched  hand. 

"He  accused  me  of  stealing  and  was  hateful, 
and  then  he  put  me  downstairs  in  that  awful 
cellar  and — " 

"And?"  suggested  T.  X. 
237 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"That's  all,"  she  replied  with  tightened  lips; 
"what  are  you  going  to  do  now?" 

"I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  few  questions  if  I 
may,"  he  said.  "In  the  first  place  have  you  not 
heard  anything  about  Mr.  Kara  since  you  went 
away?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  have  kept  out  of  his  way,"  she  said  grimly. 

"Have  you  seen  the  newspapers*?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded. 

"I  have  seen  the  advertisement  column — I 
wired  asking  Papa  to  reply  to  my  telegram." 

"I  know — I  saw  it,"  he  smiled;  "that  is  what 
brought  me  here." 

"I  was  afraid  it  would,"  she  said  ruefully; 
"father  is  awfully  loquacious  in  print — ^he  makes 
speeches  you  know.  All  I  wanted  him  to  say  was 
yes  or  no.  What  do  you  mean  about  the  news- 
papers?" she  went  on.  "Is  anything  wrong  with 
mother?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"So  far  as  I  know  Lady  Bartholomew  is  in  the 
best  of  health  and  is  on  her  way  home." 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Then  what  do  you  mean  by  asking  me  about 
the  newspapers'?"  she  demanded;  "why  should  I 
see  the  newspapers — what  is  there  for  me  to  see?" 

"About  Kara?"  he  suggested. 

She  shook  her  head  in  bewilderment. 

"I  know  and  want  to  know  nothing  about  Kara. 
Why  do  you  say  this  to  me"?" 

"Because,"  said  T.  X.  slowly,  "on  the  night 
you  disappeared  from  Cadogan  Square,  Reming- 
ton Kara  was  murdered." 

"Murdered,"  she  gasped. 

He  nodded. 

"He  was  stabbed  to  the  heart  by  some  person 
or  persons  unknown." 

T.  X.  took  his  hand  from  his  pocket  and  pulled 
something  out  which  was  wrapped  in  tissue  paper. 
This  he  carefully  removed  and  the  girl  watched 
with  fascinated  gaze,  and  with  an  awful  sense 
of  apprehension.  Presently  the  object  was  re- 
vealed. It  was  a  pair  of  scissors  with  the  handle 
wrapped  about  with  a  small  handkerchief  dappled 
with  brown  stains.  She  took  a  step  backward, 
raising  her  hands  to  her  cheeks. 

289 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"My  scissors,"  she  said  huskily;  "you  won't 
think—" 

She  stared  up  at  him,  fear  and  indignation 
struggling  for  mastery. 

"I  don't  think  you  committed  the  murder,"  he 
smiled ;  "if  that's  what  you  mean  to  ask  me,  but  if 
anybody  ^Ise  found  those  scissors  and  had  identi- 
fied this  handkerchief  you  would  have  been  in 
rather  a  fix,  my  young  friend." 

She  looked  at  the  scissors  and  shuddered. 

"I  did  kill — something,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "an  awful  dog  ...  I  don't  know  how  I 
did  it,  but  the  beastly  thing  jumped  at  me  and  I 
just  stabbed  him  and  killed  him,  and  I  am  glad," 
she  nodded  many  times  and  repeated,  "I  am 
glad." 

"So  I  gather — I  found  the  dog  and  now  per- 
haps you'll  explain  why  I  didn't  find  you?" 

Again  she  hesitated  and  he  felt  that  she  was 
hiding  something  from  him. 

"I  don't  know  why  you  didn't  find  me,"  she 
said;  "I  was  there." 

240 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"How  did  you  get  out?" 

"How  did  you  get  out?"  she  challenged  him 
boldly. 

"I  got  out  through  the  door,"  he  confessed; 
"it  seems  a  ridiculously  commonplace  way  of 
leaving  but  that's  the  only  way  I  could  see." 

"And  that's  how  I  got  out,"  she  answered,  with 
a  little  smile, 

"But  it  was  locked." 

She  laughed. 

"I  see  now,"  she  said;  "I  was  in  the  cellar.  I 
heard  your  key  in  the  lock  and  bolted  down  the 
trap,  leaving  those  awful  scissors  behind.  I 
thought  it  was  Kara  with  some  of  his  friends  and 
then  the  voices  died  away  and  I  ventured  to  come 
up  and  found  you  had  left  the  door  open.  So  I — 
so  I  .  .  ." 

These  queer  little  pauses  puzzled  T.  X. 
There  was  something  she  was  not  telling  him. 
Something  she  had  yet  to  reveal. 

"So  I  got  away  you  see,"  she  went  on.  "I 
came  out  into  the  kitchen;  there  was  nobody  there, 

241 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

and  I  passed  through  the  area  door  and  up  the 
steps  and  just  round  the  corner  I  found  a  taxi- 
cab,  and  that  is  all." 

She  spread  out  her  hands  in  a  dramatic  little 
gesture. 

"And  that  is  all,  is  it^"  said  T.  X. 

"That  is  all,"  she  repeated;  "now  what  are  you 
going  to  do'?" 

T.  X.  looked  up  at  the  ceiling  and  stroked  his 
chin. 

"I  suppose  that  I  ought  to  arrest  you.  I  feel 
that  something  is  due  from  me.  May  I  ask  if  you 
were  sleeping  in  the  bed  downstairs*?" 

"In  the  lower  cellar^"  she  demanded, — a  little 
pause  and  then,  "Yes,  I  was  sleeping  in  the  cellar 
downstairs." 

There  was  that  interval  of  hesitation  almost  be- 
tween each  word. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do"?"  she  asked  again. 

She  was  feeling  more  sure  of  herself  and  had 
suppressed  the  panic  which  his  sudden  appearance 
had  produced  in  her.  He  rumpled  his  hair,  a 
gross  imitation,  did  she  but  know  it,  of  one  of  his 

^43 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

chief's  mannerisms  and  she  observed  that  his 
hair  was  very  thick  and  inclined  to  curl.  She  saw 
also  that  he  was  passably  good  looking,  had 
fine  grey  eyes,  a  straight  nose  and  a  most  firai 
chin. 

"I  think,"  she  suggested  gently,  "you  had  bet- 
ter arrest  me." 

"Don't  be  silly,'*  he  begged. 

She  stared  at  him  in  amazement. 

"What  did  you  say?"  she  asked  wrathfully. 

"I  said  'don't  be  silly,'  "  repeated  the  calm 
young  man. 

"Do  you  know  that  you're  being  very  rude?" 
she  asked. 

"Am  I?" 

He  seemed  interested  and  surprised  at  this 
novel  view  of  his  conduct. 

"Of  course,"  she  went  on  carefully  smoothing 
her  dress  and  avoiding  his  eye,  "I  know  you  think 
I  am  silly  and  that  I've  got  a  most  comic  name." 

"I  have  never  said  your  name  was  comic,"  he 
replied  coldly;  "I  would  not  take  so  great  a  lib- 
erty." 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  said  it  was  'weird'  which  was  worse," 
she  claimed. 

'T  may  have  said  it  was  'weird,'  "  he  admitted, 
"but  that's  rather  different  to  saying  it  was 
'comic'  There  is  dignity  in  weird  things.  For 
example,  nightmares  aren't  comic  but  they're 
weird." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  pointedly. 

"Not  that  I  mean  your  name  is  anything  ap- 
proaching a  nightmare."  He  made  this  conces- 
sion with  a  most  magnificent  sweep  of  hand  as 
though  he  were  a  king  conceding  her  the  right  to 
remain  covered  in  his  presence.  "I  think  that  Be- 
linda Ann — " 

"Belinda  Mary,"  she  corrected. 

"Belinda  Mary,  I  was  going  to  say,  or  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,"  he  floundered,  "I  was  going  to  say 
Belinda  and  Mary." 

"You  were  going  to  say  nothing  of  the  kind," 
she  corrected  him. 

"Anyway,  I  think  Belinda  Mary  is  a  very 
pretty  name." 

"You  think  nothing  of  the  sort." 
244 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

She  saw  the  laughter  in  his  eyes  and  felt  an  in- 
sane desire  to  laugh. 

"You  said  it  was  a  weird  name  and  you  think 
it  is  a  weird  name,  but  I  really  can't  be  bothered 
considering  everybody's  views.  I  think  it's  a 
weird  name,  too.  I  was  named  after  an  aunt," 
she  added  in  self-defence. 

"There  you  have  the  advantage  of  me,"  he  in- 
clined his  head  politely;  "I  was  named  after  my 
father's  favourite  dog." 

"What  does  T.  X.  stand  for*?"  she  asked  curi- 
ously. 

"Thomas  Xavier,"  he  said,  and  she  leant  back 
in  the  big  chair  on  the  edge  of  which  a  few  min- 
utes before  she  had  perched  herself  in  trepidation 
and  dissolved  into  a  fit  of  immoderate  laughter. 

"It  is  comic,  isn't  it?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  am  sorry  I'm  so  rude,"  she  gasped. 
"Fancy  being  called  Tommy  Xavier — I  mean 
Thomas  Xavier." 

"You  may  call  me  Tommy  if  you  wish — most 
of  my  friends  do." 

"Unfortunately  I'm  not  your  friend,"  she  said, 
U5 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

still  smiling  and  wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes, 
"so  I  shall  go  on  calling  you  Mr.  Meredith  if  you 
don't  mind." 

She  looked  at  her  watch. 

"If  you  are  not  going  to  arrest  me  I'm  going," 
she  said. 

'T  have  certainly  no  intention  of  arresting 
you,"  said  he,  "but  I  am  going  to  see  you  home !" 

She  jumped  up  smartly. 

"You're  not,"  she  commanded. 

She  was  so  definite  in  this  that  he  was  startled. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  protested. 

"Please  don't  'dear  child'  me,"  she  said  seri- 
ously; "you're  going  to  be  a  good  little  Tommy 
and  let  me  go  home  by  myself." 

She  held  out  her  hand  frankly  and  the  laugh- 
ing appeal  in  her  eyes  was  irresistible. 

"Well,  I'll  see  you  to  a  cab,"  he  insisted. 

"And  listen  while  I  give  the  driver  instructions 
where  he  is  to  take  me?" 

She  shook  her  head  reprovingly. 

"It  must  be  an  awful  thing  to  be  a  policeman." 
246 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  stood  back  with  folded  arms,  a  stern  frown 
on  his  face. 

"Don't  you  trust  me^"  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  replied. 

"Quite  right,"  he  approved;  "anyway  I'll  see 
you  to  the  cab  and  you  can  tell  the  driver  to  go  to 
Charing  Cross  station  and  on  your  way  you  can 
change  your  direction." 

"And  you  promise  you  won't  follow  me*?"  she 
asked. 

"On  my  honour,"  he  swore;  "on  one  condition 
though." 

"I  will  make  no  conditions,"  she  replied 
haughtily. 

"Please  come  down  from  your  great  big  horse," 
he  begged,  "and  listen  to  reason.  The  condition 
I  make  is  that  I  can  always  bring  you  to  an  ap- 
pointed rendezvous  whenever  I  want  you.  Hon- 
estly, this  is  necessary,  Belinda  Mary." 

"Miss  Bartholomew,"  she  corrected,  coldly. 

"It  is  necessary,"  he  went  on,  "as  you  will  un- 
derstand.    Promise  me  that,  if  I  put  an  advertise- 

i247 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ment  in  the  agonies  of  either  an  evening  paper 
which  I  will  name  or  in  the  Morning  Post^  you 
will  keep  the  appointment  I  fix,  if  it  is  humanly 
possible." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  held  out  her  hand. 

*T  promise,"  she  said. 

*'Good  for  you,  Belinda  Mary,"  said  he,  and 
tucking  her  arm  in  his  he  led  her  out  of  the  room 
switching  off  the  light  and  racing  her  down  the 
stairs. 

If  there  was  a  lot  of  the  schoolgirl  left  in  Be- 
linda Mary  Bartholomew,  no  less  of  the  school- 
boy was  there  in  this  Commissioner  of  Police. 
He  would  have  danced  her  through  the  fog,  con- 
temptuous of  the  proprieties,  but  he  wasn't  so  very 
anxious  to  get  her  to  her  cab  and  to  lose  sight  of 
her. 

"Good-night,"  he  said,  holding  her  hand. 

"That's  the  third  time  you've  shaken  hands 
with  me  to-night,"  she  interjected. 

"Don't  let  us  have  any  unpleasantness  at  the 
last,"  he  pleaded,  "and  remember." 

"I  have  promised,"  she  replied. 
£4)8 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"And  one  day,"  he  went  on,  "you  will  tell  me 
all  that  happened  in  that  cellar." 

"I  have  told  you,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"You  have  not  told  me  everything,  child." 

He  handed  her  into  the  cab.  He  shut  the  door 
behind  her  and  leant  through  the  open  window. 

"Victoria  or  Marble  Arch*?"  he  asked  politely. 

"Charing  Cross,"  she  replied,  with  a  little 
laugh. 

He  watched  the  cab  drive  away  and  then  sud- 
denly it  stopped  and  a  figure  lent  out  from  the 
window  beckoning  him  frantically.  He  ran  up 
to  her. 

"Suppose  I  want  you,"  she  asked. 

"Advertise,"  he  said  promptly,  "beginning 
your  advertisement  'Dear  Tommy.'  " 

"I  shall  put  'T.  X.,'  "  she  said  indignantly. 

"Then  I  shall  take  no  notice  of  your  advertise- 
ment," he  replied  and  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  to  the  intense  annoy- 
ance of  a  taxi-cab  driver  who  literally  all  but  ran 
him  down  and  in  a  figurative  sense  did  so  until  T. 
X.  was  out  of  earshot. 

249 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Thomas  Xavier  Meredith  was  a  shrewd  young 
man.  It  was  said  of  him  by  Signer  Paulo  Coselli, 
the  eminent  criminologist,  that  he  had  a  gift  of 
intuition  which  was  abnormal.  Probably  the  mys- 
tery of  the  twisted  candle  was  solved  by  him  long 
before  any  other  person  in  the  world  had  the  dim- 
mest idea  that  it  was  capable  of  solution. 

The  house  in  Cadogan  Square  was  still  in  the 
hands  of  the  police.  To  this  house  and  particu- 
larly to  Kara's  bedroom  T.  X.  from  time  to  time 
repaired,  and  reproduced  as  far  as  possible  the 
conditions  which  obtained  on  the  night  of  the 
murder.  He  had  the  same  stifling  fire,  the  same 
locked  door.  The  latch  was  dropped  in  its 
socket,  whilst  T.  X.,  with  a  stop  watch  in  his  hand, 
made  elaborate  calculations  and  acted  certain 
parts  which  he  did  not  reveal  to  a  soul. 

Three  times,  accompanied  by  Mansus,  he  went 
to   the  house,   three   times   went   to   the   death 

250 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

chamber  and  was  alone  on  one  occasion  for 
an  hour  and  a  half  whilst  the  patient  Man- 
sus  waited  outside.  Three  times  he  emerged 
looking  graver  on  each  occasion,  and  after  the 
third  visit  he  called  into  consultation  John  Lex- 
man. 

Lexman  had  been  spending  some  time  in  the 
country,  having  deferred  his  trip  to  the  United 
States. 

"This  case  puzzles  me  more  and  more,  John," 
said  T.  X.,  troubled  out  of  his  usual  boisterous 
self,  "and  thank  heaven  it  worries  other  people 
besides  me.  De  Mainau  came  over  from  France 
the  other  day  and  brought  all  his  best  sleuths, 
whilst  O' Grady  of  the  New  York  central  office 
paid  a  flying  visit  just  to  get  hold  of  the  facts. 
Not  one  of  them  has  given  me  the  real  solution, 
though  they've  all  been  rather  ingenious.  Gath- 
ercole  has  vanished  and  is  probably  on  his  way 
to  some  undiscoverable  region,  and  our  people 
have  not  yet  traced  the  valet." 

"He  should  be  the  easiest  for  you,"  said  John 
Lexman,  reflectively. 

251 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Why  Gathercole  should  go  off  I  can't  under- 
stand," T.  X.  continued.  "According  to  the 
story  which  was  told  me  by  Fisher,  his  last  words 
to  Kara  were  to  the  effect  that  he  was  expecting  a 
cheque  or  that  he  had  received  a  cheque.  No 
cheque  has  been  presented  or  drawn  and  appar- 
ently Gathercole  has  gone  off  without  waiting 
for  any  payment.  An  examination  of  Kara's 
books  show  nothing  against  the  Gathercole  ac- 
count save  the  sum  of  £600  which  was  originally 
advanced,  and  now  to  upset  all  my  calculations, 
look  at  this." 

He  took  from  his  pocketbook  a  newspaper  cut- 
ting and  pushed  it  across  the  table,  for  they  were 
dining  together  at  the  Carlton.  John  Lexman 
picked  up  the  slip  and  read.  It  was  evidently 
from  a  New  York  paper : 

"Further  news  has  now  come  to  hand  by  the  Antarctic 
Trading  Company's  steamer,  Cyprus,  concerning  the 
wreck  of  the  City  of  the  Argentine.  It  is  believed  that 
this  ill-fated  vessel,  which  called  at  South  American 
ports,  lost  her  propellor  and  drifted  south  out  of  the 
track  of  shipping.  This  theory  is  now  confirmed.  Ap- 
parently the  ship  struck  an  iceberg  on  December  23rd 

25a 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

and  foundered  with  all  aboard  save  a  few  men  who  were 
able  to  launch  a  boat  and  who  were  picked  up  by  the 
Cyprus.     The  following  is  the  passenger  list." 

John  Lexman  ran  down  the  list  until  he  came 
upon  the  name  which  was  evidently  underlined 
in  ink  by  T.  X.  That  name  was  George  Gather- 
cole  and  after  it  in  brackets  (Explorer). 

"If  that  were  true,  then,  Gathercole  could  not 
have  come  to  London." 

"He  may  have  taken  another  boat,"  said  T.  X., 
"and  I  cabled  to  the  Steamship  Company  without 
any  great  success.  Apparently  Gathercole  was 
an  eccentric  sort  of  man  and  lived  in  terror  of  be- 
ing overcrowded.  It  was  a  habit  of  his  to  make 
provisional  bookings  by  every  available  steamer. 
The  company  can  tell  me  no  more  than  that  he 
had  booked,  but  whether  he  shipped  on  the  City 
of  the  Argentine  or  not,  they  do  not  know." 

"I  can  tell  you  this  about  Gathercole,"  said 
John  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  "that  he  was  a 
man  who  would  not  hurt  a  fly.  He  was  incap- 
able of  killing  any  man,  being  constitutionally 
averse  to  taking  life  in  any  shape.     For  this  rea- 

253 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

son  he  never  made  collections  of  butterflies  or  of 
bees,  and  I  believe  has  never  shot  an  animal  in  his 
life.  He  carried  his  principles  to  such  an  extent 
that  he  was  a  vegetarian — ^poor  old  Gathercole !" 
he  said,  with  the  first  smile  which  T.  X.  had  seen 
on  his  face  since  he  came  back. 

"If  you  want  to  sympathize  with  anybody," 
said  T.  X.  gloomily,  "sympathize  with  me." 

On  the  following  day  T.  X.  was  summoned  to 
the  Home  Office  and  went  steeled  for  a  most  un- 
holy row.  The  Home  Secretary,  a  large  and 
worthy  gentleman,  given  to  the  making  of 
speeches  on  every  excuse,  received  him,  however, 
with  unusual  kindness. 

"I've  sent  for  you,  Mr.  Meredith,"  he  said, 
"about  this  unfortunate  Greek.  I've  had  all  his 
private  papers  looked  into  and  translated  and  in 
some  cases  decoded,  because  as  you  are  probably 
aware  his  diaries  and  a  great  deal  of  his  corre- 
spondence were  in  a  code  which  called  for  the  at- 
tention of  experts." 

T.  X.  had  not  troubled  himself  greatly  about 
Kara's  private  papers  but  had  handed  them  over, 

^54 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

in  accordance  with  instructions,  to  the  proper  au- 
thorities. 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Meredith,"  the  Home  Secre- 
tary went  on,  beaming  across  his  big  table,  "we 
expect  you  to  continue  your  search  for  the  mur- 
derer, but  I  must  confess  that  your  prisoner  when 
you  secure  him  will  have  a  very  excellent  case  to 
put  to  a  jury." 

"That  I  can  well  believe,  sir,"  said  T.  X. 

"Seldom  in  my  long  career  at  the  bar,"  began 
the  Home  Secretary  in  his  best  oratorical  manner, 
"have  I  examined  a  record  so  utterly  discreditable 
as  that  of  the  deceased  man." 

Here  he  advanced  a  few  instances  which  sur- 
prised even  T.  X. 

"The  man  was  a  lunatic,"  continued  the  Home 
Secretary,  "a  vicious,  evil  man  who  loved  cruelty 
for  cruelty's  sake.  We  have  in  this  diary  alone 
sufficient  evidence  to  convict  him  of  three  sep- 
arate murders,  one  of  which  was  committed  in 
this  country." 

T.  X.  looked  his  astonishment. 

"You  will  remember,  Mr.  Meredith,  as  I  saw 
855 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

in  one  of  your  reports,  that  he  had  a  chauffeur,  a 
Greek  named  Poropulos." 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"He  went  to  Greece  on  the  day  following  the 
shooting  of  Vassalaro,"  he  said. 

The  Home  Secretary  shook  his  head. 

"He  was  killed  on  the  same  night,"  said  the 
Minister,  "and  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing what  remains  of  his  body  in  the  disused  house 
which  Kara  rented  for  his  own  purpose  on  the 
Portsmouth  Road.  That  he  has  killed  a  number 
of  people  in  Albania  you  may  well  suppose. 
Whole  villages  have  been  wiped  out  to  provide 
him  with  a  little  excitement.  The  man  was  a 
Nero  without  any  of  Nero's  amiable  weak- 
nesses. He  was  obsessed  with  the  idea  that  he 
himself  was  in  danger  of  assassination,  and  saw 
an  enemy  even  in  his  trusty  servant.  Undoubt- 
edly the  chauffeur  Poropulos  was  in  touch  with 
several  Continental  government  circles.  You 
understand,"  said  the  Minister  in  conclusion, 
"that  I  am  telling  you  this,  not  with  the  idea  of 
expecting  you  to  relax  your  efforts  to  find  the 

256 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

murderer  and  clear  up  the  mystery,  but  in  order 
that  you  may  know  something  of  the  possible  mo- 
tive for  this  man's  murder." 

T.  X.  spent  an  hour  going  over  the  decoded 
diary  and  documents  and  left  the  Home  Office  a 
little  shakily.  It  was  inconceivable,  incredible. 
Kara  was  a  lunatic,  but  the  directing  genius  was  a 
devil. 

T.  X.  had  a  flat  in  WTiitehall  Gardens  and 
thither  he  repaired  to  change  for  dinner.  He  was 
half  dressed  when  the  evening  paper  arrived  and 
he  glanced  as  was  his  wont  first  at  the  news'  page 
and  then  at  the  advertisement  column.  He 
looked  down  the  column  marked  "Personal" 
without  expecting  to  find  anything  of  particular 
interest  to  himself,  but  saw  that  which  made  him 
drop  the  paper  and  fly  round  the  room  in  a  frenzy 
to  complete  his  toilet. 

*'Tommy  X.,"  ran  the  brief  announcement, 
"most  urgent,  Marble  Arch  8." 

He  had  five  minutes  to  get  there  but  it  seemed 
like  five  hours.  He  was  held  up  at  almost  every 
crossing  and  though  he  might  have  used  his  au- 

267 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

thority  to  obtain  right  of  way,  it  was  a  step  which 
his  curious  sense  of  honesty  prevented  him  taking. 
He  leapt  out  of  the  cab  before  it  stopped,  thrust 
the  fare  into  the  driver's  hands  and  looked  round 
for  the  girl.  He  saw  her  at  last  and  walked 
quickly  towards  her.  As  he  approached  her,  she 
turned  about  and  with  an  almost  imperceptible 
beckoning  gesture  walked  away.  He  followed 
her  along  the  Bayswater  Road  and  gradually 
drew  level. 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  been  watched,"  she  said 
in  a  low  voice.     "Will  you  call  a  cab?" 

He  hailed  a  passing  taxi,  helped  her  in  and 
gave  at  random  the  first  place  that  suggested  it- 
self to  him,  which  was  Finsbury  Park. 

'T  am  very  worried,"  she  said,  "and  I  don't 
know  anybody  who  can  help  me  except  you." 

"Is  it  money*?"  he  asked. 

"Money,"  she  said  scornfully,  "of  course  it 
isn't  money.  I  want  to  show  you  a  letter,"  she 
said  after  a  while. 

She  took  it  from  her  bag  and  gave  it  to  him  and 
he  struck  a  match  and  read  it  with  difficulty. 

258 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

It  was  written  in  a  studiously  uneducated  hand. 

"Dear  Miss, 

"I  know  who  you  are.  You  are  wanted  by  the  police 
but  I  will  not  give  you  away.  Dear  Miss.  I  am  very 
hard  up  and  £20  will  be  very  useful  to  me  and  I  shall 
not  trouble  you  again.  Dear  Miss.  Put  the  money  on 
the  window  sill  of  your  room.  I  know  you  sleep  on  the 
ground  floor  and  I  will  come  in  and  take  it.  And  if  not 
— well,  I  don't  want  to  make  any  trouble. 

"Yours  truly, 

"A  Friend." 

"When  did  you  get  this?"  he  asked. 

"This  morning,"  she  replied.  "I  sent  the  Agony 
to  the  paper  by  telegram,  I  knew  you  would 
come." 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you*?"  he  said. 

Her  assurance  was  very  pleasing  to  him.  The 
faith  that  her  words  implied  gave  him  an  odd 
little  feeling  of  comfort  and  happiness. 

"I  can  easily  get  you  out  of  this,"  he  added; 
"give  me  your  address  and  when  the  gentleman 
comes — " 

"That  is  impossible,"  she  replied  hurriedly. 
"Please  don't  think  I'm  ungrateful,  and  don*t 

£59 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

think  I'm  being  silly — you  do  think  I'm  being 
silly,  don't  you?" 

*T  have  never  harboured  such  an  unworthy 
thought,"  he  said  virtuousij^. 

"Yes,  you  have,"  she  persisted,  "but  really  I 
can't  tell  you  where  I  am  living.  I  have  a  very 
special  reason  for  not  doing  so.  It's  not  myself 
that  I'm  thinking  about,  but  there's  a  life  in- 
volved." 

This  was  a  somewhat  dramatic  statement  to 
make  and  she  felt  she  had  gone  too  far. 
.  "Perhaps  I  don't  mean  that,"  she  said,  "but 
there  is  some  one  I  care  for — "  she  dropped  her 
voice. 

"Oh,"  said  T.  X.  blankly. 

He  came  down  from  his  rosy  heights  into  the 
shadow  and  darkness  of  a  sunless  valley. 

"Some  one  you  care  for,"  he  repeated  after  a 
while. 

"Yes." 

There  was  another  long  silence,  then, 

"Oh,  indeed,"  said  T.  X. 

Again  the  unbroken  interval  of  quiet  and  after 
^60 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

a  while  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "Not  that  way." 

"Not  what  way*?"  asked  T.  X.  huskily,  his 
spirits  doing  a  little  mountaineering. 

"The  way  you  mean,"  she  said. 

"Oh,"  said  T.  X. 

He  was  back  again  amidst  the  rosy  snows  of 
dawn,  was  in  fact  climbing  a  dizzy  escalier  on  the 
topmost  height  of  hope's  Mont  Blanc  when  she 
pulled  the  ladder  from  under  him. 

"I  shall,  of  course,  never  marry,"  she  said  with 
a  certain  prim  decision. 

T.  X.  fell  with  a  dull  sickening  thud,  discover- 
ing that  his  rosy  snows  were  not  unlike  cold,  hard 
ice  in  their  lack  of  resilience. 

"Who  said  you  would?"  he  asked  somewhat 
feebly,  but  in  self  defence. 

"You  did,"  she  said,  and  her  audacity  took  his 
breath  away. 

"Well,  how  am  I  to  help  you?"  he  asked  after 
a  while. 

"By  giving  me  some  advice,"  she  said;  "do  you 
think  I  ought  to  put  the  money  there?" 

"Indeed  I  do  not,"  said  T.  X.,  recovering  some 
261 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

of  his  natural  dominance;  "apart  from  the  fact 
that  you  would  be  compounding  a  felony,  you 
would  merely  be  laying  out  trouble  for  yourself 
in  the  future.  If  he  can  get  £20  so  easily,  he 
will  come  for  £40.  But  why  do  you  stay  away, 
why  don't  you  return  home?  There's  no  charge 
and  no  breath  of  suspicion  against  you." 

"Because  I  have  something  to  do  which  I  have 
set  my  mind  to,"  she  said,  with  determination  in 
her  tones. 

"Surely  you  can  trust  me  with  your  address," 
he  urged  her,  "after  all  that  has  passed  between 
us,  Belinda  Mary — after  all  the  years  we  have 
known  one  another." 

"I  shall  get  out  and  leave  you,"  she  said 
steadily. 

"But  how  the  dickens  am  I  going  to  help  you?" 
he  protested. 

"Don't  swear,"  she  could  be  very  severe  in- 
deed; "the  only  way  you  can  help  me  is  by  being 
kind  and  sympathetic." 

"Would  you  like  me  to  burst  into  tears?"  he 
asked  sarcastically. 

262 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  ask  you  to  do  nothing  more  painful  or  re- 
pugnant to  your  natural  feelings  than  to  be  a 
gentleman,"  she  said. 

"Thank  you  very  kindly,"  said  T.  X.,  and  leant 
back  in  the  cab  with  an  air  of  supreme  resigna- 
tion. 

*T  believe  you're  making  faces  in  the  dark,"  she 
accused  him. 

"God  forbid  that  I  should  do  anything  so  low," 
said  he  hastily;  "what  made  you  think  that*?" 

"Because  I  was  putting  my  tongue  out  at  you," 
she  admitted,  and  the  taxi  driver  heard  the  shrieks 
of  laughter  in  the  cab  behind  him  above  the  wheez- 
ing of  his  asthmatic  engine. 


At  twelve  that  night  in  a  certain  suburb  of  Lon- 
don an  overcoated  man  moved  stealthily  through 
a  garden.  He  felt  his  way  carefully  along  the 
wall  of  the  house  and  groped  with  hope,  but  with 
no  great  certainty,  along  the  window  sill.  He 
found  an  envelope  which  his  fingers,  somewhat 
sensitive  from  long  employment  in  nefarious  uses, 

263 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

told  him  contained  nothing  more  substantial  than 
a  letter. 

He  went  back  through  the  garden  and  rejoined 
his  companion,  who  was  waiting  under  an  adja- 
cent lamp-post. 

"Did  she  drop?"  asked  the  other  eagerly. 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  growled  the  man  from  the 
garden. 

He  opened  the  envelope  and  read  the  few  lines. 

"She  hasn't  got  the  money,"  he  said,  "but  she's 
going  to  get  it.  I  must  meet  her  to-morrow  after- 
noon at  the  corner  of  Oxford  Street  and  Regent 
Street." 

"What  time*?"  asked  the  other. 

"Six  o'clock,"  said  the  first  man.  "The  chap 
who  takes  the  money  must  carry  a  copy  of  the 
Westminster  Gazette  in  his  hand." 

"Oh,  then  it's  a  plant,"  said  the  other  with 
conviction. 

The  other  laughed. 

"She  won't  work  any  plants.  I  bet  she's 
scared  out  of  her  life." 

£64 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  second  man  bit  his  nails  and  looked  up 
and  down  the  road,  apprehensively. 

"It's  come  to  something,"  he  said  bitterly;  "we 
went  out  to  make  our  thousands  and  we've  come 
down  to  'chanting'  for  £20." 

"It's  the  luck,"  said  the  other  philosophically, 
"and  I  haven't  done  with  her  by  any  means.  Be- 
sides we've  still  got  a  chance  of  pulling  off  the  big 
thing,  Harry.  I  reckon  she's  good  for  a  hundred 
or  two,  anyway." 

At  six  o'clock  on  the  following  afternoon,  a 
man  dressed  in  a  dark  overcoat,  with  a  soft  felt 
hat  pulled  down  over  his  eyes  stood  nonchalantly 
by  the  curb  near  where  the  buses  stop  at  Regent 
Street  slapping  his  hand  gently  with  a  folded  copy 
of  the  WestJninster  Gazette. 

That  none  should  mistake  his  Liberal  reading, 
he  stood  as  near  as  possible  to  a  street  lamp  and 
so  arranged  himself  and  his  attitude  that  the  mini- 
mum of  light  should  fall  upon  his  face  and  the 
maximum  upon  that  respectable  organ  of  public 
opinion.     Soon  after  six  he  saw  the  girl  approach- 

S65 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ing,  out  of  the  tail  of  his  eye,  and  strolled  off  to 
meet  her.  To  his  surprise  she  passed  him  by  and 
he  was  turning  to  follow  when  an  unfriendly 
hand  gripped  him  by  the  arm. 

"Mr.  Fisher,  I  believe,"  said  a  pleasant  voice. 

*'What  do  you  mean?"  said  the  man,  struggling 
backward. 

"Are  you  going  quietly?"  asked  the  pleasant 
Superintendent  Mansus,  "or  shall  I  take  my  stick 
to  you?" 

Mr.  Fisher  thought  awhile. 

"It's  a  cop,"  he  confessed,  and  allowed  himself 
to  be  hustled  into  the  waiting  cab. 

He  made  his  appearance  in  T.  X.'s  office  and 
that  urbane  gentleman  greeted  him  as  a  friend. 

"And  how's  Mr.  Fisher?"  he  asked;  "I  suppose 
you  are  Mr.  Fisher  still  and  not  Mr.  Harry  Gil- 
cott,  or  Mr.  George  Porten." 

Fisher  smiled  his  old,  deferential,  deprecating 
smile. 

"You  will  always  have  your  joke,  sir.  I  sup- 
pose the  young  lady  gave  me  away." 

"You  gave  yourself  away,  my  poor  Fisher,'* 
266 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

said  T.  X.,  and  put  a  strip  of  paper  before  him; 
*'you  may  disguise  your  hand,  and  in  your  ex- 
treme modesty  pretend  to  an  ignorance  of  the 
British  language,  which  is  not  creditable  to  your 
many  attainments,  but  what  you  must  be  awfully 
careful  in  doing  in  future  when  you  write  such 
epistles,"  he  said,  "is  to  wash  your  hands." 

"Wash  my  hands'?"  repeated  the  puzzled 
Fisher. 

T.  X.  nodded. 

"You  see  you  left  a  little  thumb  print,  and  we 
are  rather  whales  on  thumb  prints  at  Scotland 
Yard,  Fisher." 

"I  see.     What  is  the  charge  now,  sir?" 

"I  shall  make  no  charge  against  you  except  the 
conventional  one  of  being  a  convict  under  license 
and  failing  to  report." 

Fisher  heaved  a  sigh. 

"That'll  only  mean  twelve  months.  Are  you 
going  to  charge  me  with  this  business?"  he  nodded 
to  the  paper. 

T.  X.  shook  his  head. 

"I  bear  you  no  ill-will  although  you  tried  to 
267 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

frighten  Miss  Bartholomew.  Oh  yes,  I  know  it 
is  Miss  Bartholomew,  and  have  known  all  the 
time.  The  lady  is  there  for  a  reason  which  is 
no  business  of  yours  or  of  mine.  I  shall  not 
charge  you  with  attempt  to  blackmail  and  in  re- 
ward for  my  leniency  I  hope  you  are  going  to  tell 
me  all  you  know  about  the  Kara  murder.  You 
wouldn't  like  me  to  charge  you  with  that,  would 
you  by  any  chance?" 

Fisher  drew  a  long  breath. 

"No,  sir,  but  if  you  did  I  could  prove  my  in- 
nocence," he  said  earnestly.  'T  spent  the  whole 
of  the  evening  in  the  kitchen." 

"Except  a  quarter  of  an  hour,"  said  T.  X. 

The  man  nodded. 

"That's  true,  sir,  I  went  out  to  see  a  pal  of 
mine." 

"The  man  who  is  in  this?"  asked  T.  X. 

Fisher  hesitated. 

"Yes,  sir.  He  was  with  me  in  this  but  there 
was  nothing  wrong  about  the  business — as  far  as 
we  went.  I  don't  mind  admitting  that  I  was 
planning  a  Big  Thing.     I'm  not  going  to  blow 

268 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

on  it,  if  it's  going  to  get  me  into  trouble,  but  if 
you'll  promise  me  that  it  won't,  I'll  tell  you  the 
whole  story." 

"Against  whom  was  this  coup  of  yours 
planned"?" 

"Against  Mr.  Kara,  sir,"  said  Fisher. 

"Go  on  with  your  story,"  nodded  T.  X. 

The  story  was  a  short  and  commonplace  one. 
Fisher  had  met  a  man  who  knew  another  man 
who  was  either  a  Turk  or  an  Albanian.  They 
had  learnt  that  Kara  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping 
large  sums  of  money  in  the  house  and  they  had 
planned  to  rob  him.  That  was  the  story  in  a 
nutshell.  Somewhere  the  plan  miscarried.  It 
was  when  he  came  to  the  incidents  that  occurred 
on  the  night  of  the  murder  that  T.  X.  followed 
him  with  the  greatest  interest. 

"The  old  gentleman  came  in,"  said  Fisher,  "and 
I  saw  him  up  to  the  room.  I  heard  him  coming 
out  and  I  went  up  and  spoke  to  him  while  he  was 
having  a  chat  with  Mr.  Kara  at  the  open  door." 

"Did  you  hear  Mr.  Kara  speak^" 

"I  fancy  I  did,  sir,"  said  Fisher;  "anyway  the 
»69 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

old  gentleman  was  quite  pleased  with  himself." 

"Why  do  you  say  'old  gentleman'?"  asked  T. 
X. ;  "he  was  not  an  old  man." 

"Not  exactly,  sir,"  said  Fisher,  "but  he  had  a 
sort  of  fussy  irritable  way  that  old  gentlemen 
sometimes  have  and  I  somehow  got  it  fixed  in  my 
mind  that  he  was  old.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
was  about  forty-five,  he  may  have  been  fifty." 

"You  have  told  me  all  this  before.  Was  there 
anything  peculiar  about  him?" 

Fisher  hesitated. 

"Nothing,  sir,  except  the  fact  that  one  of  his 
arms  was  a  game  one." 

"Meaning  that  it  was — " 

"Meaning  that  it  was  an  artificial  one,  sir, 
so  far  as  I  can  make  out." 

"Was  it  his  right  or  his  left  arm  that  was 
game?"  interrupted  T.  X. 

"His  left  arm,  sir." 

"You're  sure?" 

"I'd  swear  to  it,  sir." 

"Very  well,  go  on." 

"He  came  downstairs  and  went  out  and  I  never 
270 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

saw  him  again.  When  you  came  and  the  murder 
was  discovered  and  knowing  as  I  did  that  I  had 
my  own  scheme  on  and  that  one  of  your  splits 
might  pinch  me,  I  got  a  bit  rattled.  I  went  down- 
stairs to  the  hall  and  the  first  thing  I  saw  lying 
on  the  table  was  a  letter.  It  was  addressed  to 
me." 

He  paused  and  T.  X.  nodded. 

"Go  on,"  he  said  again. 

*T  couldn't  understand  how  it  came  to  be  there, 
but  as  I'd  been  in  the  kitchen  most  of  the  evening 
except  when  I  was  seeing  my  pal  outside  to  tell 
him  the  job  was  off  for  that  night,  it  might  have 
been  there  before  you  came.  I  opened  the  letter. 
There  were  only  a  few  words  on  it  and  I  can  tell 
you  those  few  words  made  my  heart  jump  up 
into  my  mouth,  and  made  me  go  cold  all  over." 

"What  were  they^"  asked  T.  X. 

*T  shall  not  forget  them,  sir.  They're  sort  of 
permanently  fixed  in  my  brain,"  said  the  man 
earnestly;  "the  note  started  with  just  the  figures 
'A.  C.  274.'  " 

"What  was  that?"  asked  T.  X. 
271 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

*'My  convict  number  when  I  was  in  Dartmoor 
Prison,  sir/' 

"What  did  the  note  say*?" 

"  'Get  out  of  here  quick' — I  don't  know  who 
had  put  it  there,  but  I'd  evidently  been  spotted 
and  I  was  taking  no  chances.  That's  the  whole 
story  from  beginning  to  end.  I  accidentally  hap- 
pened to  meet  the  young  lady,  Miss  Holland — 
Miss  Bartholomew  as  she  is — and  followed  her 
to  her  house  in  Portman  Place.  That  was  the 
night  you  were  there." 

T.  X.  found  himself  to  his  intense  annoyance 
going  very  red. 

"And  you  know  no  more?"  he  asked. 

"No  more,  sir — and  if  I  may  be  struck  dead — " 

"Keep  all  that  sabbath  talk  for  the  chaplain," 
commended  T.  X.,  and  they  took  away  Mr. 
Fisher,  not  an  especially  dissatisfied  man. 

That  night  T.  X.  interviewed  his  prisoner  at 
Cannon  Row  police  station  and  made  a  few  more 
enquiries. 

"There  is  one  thing  I  would  like  to  ask  you," 
272 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

said  the  girl  when  he  met  her  next  morning  in 
Green  Park. 

"If  you  were  going  to  ask  whether  I  made  en- 
quiries as  to  where  your  habitation  was,"  he 
warned  her,  "I  beg  of  you  to  refrain." 

She  was  looking  very  beautiful  that  morning, 
he  thought.  The  keen  air  had  brought  a  colour 
to  her  face  and  lent  a  spring  to  her  gait,  and,  as 
she  strode  along  by  his  side  with  the  free  and 
careless  swing  of  youth,  she  was  an  epitome  of  the 
life  which  even  now  was  budding  on  every  tree 
in  the  park. 

"Your  father  is  back  in  town,  by  the  way,"  he 
said,  "and  he  is  most  anxious  to  see  you." 

She  made  a  little  grimace. 

"I  hope  you  haven't  been  round  talking  to 
father  about  me." 

"Of  course  I  have,"  he  said  helplessly;  "I  have 
also  had  all  the  reporters  up  from  Fleet  Street  and 
given  them  a  full  description  of  your  escapades." 

She  looked  round  at  him  with  laughter  in  her 
eyes. 

"You  have  all  the  manners  of  an  early  Chris- 
273 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

tian  martyr,"  she  said.  "Poor  soul !  Would  you 
like  to  be  thrown  to  the  lions'?" 

"I  should  prefer  being  thrown  to  the  demnition 
ducks  and  drakes,"  he  said  moodily. 

"You're  such  a  miserable  man,"  she  chided  him, 
"and  yet  you  have  everything  to  make  life  worth 
living." 

"Ha,  ha  I"  said  T.X. 

"You  have,  of  course  you  have!  You  have  a 
splendid  position.  Everybody  looks  up  to  you 
and  talks  about  you.  You  have  got  a  wife  and 
family  who  adore  you — " 

He  stopped  and  looked  at  her  as  though  she 
were  some  strange  insect. 

"I  have  a  how  much"?"  he  asked  credulously. 

"Aren't  you  married?"  she  asked  innocently. 

He  made  a  strange  noise  in  his  throat. 

"Do  you  know  I  have  always  thought  of  you 
as  married,"  she  went  on;  "I  often  picture  you 
in  your  domestic  circle  reading  to  the  children 
from  the  Daily  Megaphone  those  awfully  interest- 
ing stories  about  Little  Willie  Waterbug." 

He  held  on  to  the  railings  for  support. 

a74 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"May  we  sit  down*?"  he  asked  faintly. 

She  sat  by  his  side,  half  turned  to  him,  demure 
and  wholly  adorable. 

"Of  course  you  are  right  in  one  respect,"  he 
said  at  last,  "but  you're  altogether  wrong  about 
the  children." 

"Are  you  married*?"  she  demanded  with  no  evi- 
dence of  amusement. 

"Didn't  you  know*?"  he  asked. 

She  swallowed  something. 

"Of  course  it's  no  business  of  mine  and  I'm  sure 
I  hope  you  are  very  happy." 

"Perfectly  happy,"  said  T.  X.  complacently. 
"You  must  come  out  and  see  me  one  Saturday 
afternoon  when  I  am  digging  the  potatoes.  I  am 
a  perfect  devil  when  they  let  me  loose  in  the  vege- 
table garden." 

"Shall  we  go  on^"  she  said. 

He  could  have  sworn  there  were  tears  in  her 
eyes  and  manlike  he  thought  she  was  vexed  with 
him  at  his  fooling. 

"I  haven't  made  you  cross,  have  I*?"  he  asked. 

"Oh  no,"  she  replied. 
275 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

*T  mean  you  don't  believe  all  this  rot  about  my 
being  married  and  that  sort  of  thing*?" 

"I'm  not  interested,"  she  said,  with  a  shrug  of 
her  shoulders,  "not  very  much.  You've  been 
very  kind  to  me  and  I  should  be  an  awful  boor  if 
I  wasn't  grateful.  Of  course,  I  don't  care 
whether  you're  married  or  not,  it's  nothing  to  do 
with  me,  is  it*?" 

"Naturally  it  isn't,"  he  replied.  "I  suppose  you 
aren't  married  by  any  chance*?" 

"Married,"  she  repeated  bitterly;  "why,  you 
will  make  my  fourth !" 

She  had  hardly  got  the  words  out  of  her  mouth 
before  she  realized  her  terrible  error.  A  second 
later  she  was  in  his  arms  and  he  was  kissing  her 
to  the  scandal  of  one  aged  park  keeper,  one  small 
and  dirty- faced  little  boy  and  a  moulting  duck 
who  seemed  to  sneer  at  the  proceedings  which  he 
watched  through  a  yellow  and  malignant  eye. 

"Belinda  Mary,"  said  T.  X.  at  parting,  "you 
have  got  to  give  up  your  little  country  establish- 
ment, wherever  it  may  be  and  come  back  to  the 

276 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

discomforts  of  Portman  Place.  Oh,  I  know  you 
can't  come  back  yet.  That  'somebody'  is  there, 
and  I  can  pretty  well  guess  who  it  is." 

"Who?"  she  challenged. 

*T  rather  fancy  your  mother  has  come  back," 
he  suggested. 

A  look  of  scorn  dawned  into  her  pretty  face. 

"Good  lord,  Tommy  I"  she  said  in  disgust,  "you 
don't  think  I  should  keep  mother  in  the  suburbs 
without  her  telling  the  world  all  about  it*?" 

"You're  an  undutiful  little  beggar,"  he  said. 

They  had  reached  the  Horse  Guards  at  White- 
hall and  he  was  saying  good-bye  to  her. 

"If  it  comes  to  a  matter  of  duty,"  she  an- 
swered, "perhaps  you  will  do  your  duty  and  hold 
up  the  traffic  for  me  and  let  me  cross  this 
road." 

"My  dear  girl,"  he  protested,  "hold  up  the 
traffic?" 

"Of  course,"  she  said  indignantly,  "you're  a 
policeman." 

"Only  when  I  am  in  uniform,"  he  said  hastily, 
and  piloted  her  across  the  road. 

277 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

It  was  a  new  man  who  returned  to  the  gloomy 
office  in  Whitehall.  A  man  with  a  heart  that 
swelled  and  throbbed  with  the  pride  and  joy  of 
life's  most  precious  possession. 


278 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

T.  X.  sat  at  his  desk,  his  chin  in  his  hands,  his 
mind  remarkably  busy.  Grave  as  the  matter  was 
which  he  was  considering,  he  rose  with  alacrity 
to  meet  the  smiling  girl  who  was  ushered  through 
the  door  by  Mansus,  pretematurally  solemn  and 
mysterious. 

She  was  radiant  that  day.  Her  eyes  were 
sparkling  with  an  unusual  brightness. 

"I've  got  the  most  wonderful  thing  to  tell  you,'* 
she  said,  "and  I  can't  tell  you." 

"That's  a  very  good  beginning,"  said  T.  X., 
taking  her  muff  from  her  hand. 

"Oh,  but  it's  really  wonderful,"  she  cried  eag- 
erly, "more  wonderful  than  anything  you  have 
ever  heard  about." 

"We  are  interested,"  said  T.  X.  blandly. 

"No,  no,  you  mustn't  make  fun,"  she  begged, 
"I  can't  tell  you  now,  but  it  is  something  that 

279 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

will  make  you  simply — "  she  was  at  a  loss  for  a 
simile. 

"Jump  out  of  my  skin"?"  suggested  T.  X. 

"I  shall  astonish  you,"  she  nodded  her  head  sol- 
emnly. 

"I  take  a  lot  of  astonishing,  I  warn  you,"  he 
smiled;  "to  know  you  is  to  exhaust  one's  capacity 
for  surprise." 

"That  can  be  either  very,  very  nice  or  very, 
very  nasty,"  she  said  cautiously. 

"But  accept  it  as  being  very,  very  nice,"  he 
laughed.  "Now  come,  out  with  this  tale  of 
yours !"  . 

She  shook  her  head  very  vigorously. 

*T  can't  possibly  tell  you  anything,"  she  said. 

"Then  why  the  dickens  do  you  begin  telling 
anything  for*?"  he  complained,  not  without  rea- 
son. 

"Because  I  just  want  you  to  know  that  I  do 
know  something." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  he  groaned.  "Of  course  you 
know  everything.  Belinda  Mary,  you're  really 
the  most  wonderful  child." 

280 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

He  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  arm-chair  and  laid 
his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"And  you've  come  to  take  me  out  to  lunch*?" 

"What  were  you  worrying  about  when  I  came 
in*?"  she  asked. 

He  made  a  little  gesture  as  if  to  dismiss  the 
subject. 

"Nothing  very  much.  You've  heard  me  speak 
of  John  Lexman"?" 

She  bent  her  head. 

"Lexman's  the  writer  of  a  great  many  mystery 
stories,  but  you've  probably  read  his  books." 

She  nodded  again,  and  again  T.  X.  noticed  the 
suppressed  eagerness  in  her  eyes. 

"You're  not  ill  or  sickening  for  anything,  are 
you?"  he  asked  anxiously;  "measles,  or  mumps 
or  something*?" 

"Don't  be  silly,"  she  said;  "go  on  and  tell  me 
something  about  Mr.  Lexman." 

"He's  going  to  America,"  said  T.  X.,  "and 
before  he  goes  he  wants  to  give  a  little  lec- 
ture." 

"A  lecture?" 

281 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"It  sounds  rum,  doesn't  it,  but  that's  just  what 
he  wants  to  do." 

"Why  is  he  doing  it*?"  she  asked. 

T.  X.  made  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"That  is  one  of  the  mysteries  which  may  never 
be  revealed  to  me,  except — "  he  pursed  his  lips 
and  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  girl.  "There  are 
times,"  he  said,  "when  there  is  a  great  struggle  go- 
ing on  inside  a  man  between  all  the  human  and 
better  part  of  him  and  the  baser  professional  part 
of  him.  One  side  of  me  wants  to  hear  this  lec- 
ture of  John  Lexman's  very  much,  the  other 
shrinks  from  the  ordeal." 

"Let  us  talk  it  over  at  lunch,"  she  said  prac- 
tically, and  carried  him  off. 


S8S 


CHAPTER  XIX 

One  would  not  readily  associate  the  party  of  top- 
booted  sewermen  who  descend  nightly  to  the  sub- 
terranean passages  of  London  with  the  stout  vice- 
consul  at  Durazzo.  Yet  it  was  one  unimaginative 
man  who  lived  in  Lambeth  and  had  no  knowledge 
tliat  there  was  such  a  place  as  Durazzo  who  was 
responsible  for  bringing  this  comfortable  official 
out  of  his  bed  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning 
causing  him — albeit  reluctantly  and  with  vio- 
lent and  insubordinate  language — to  conduct  cer- 
tain investigations  in  the  crowded  bazaars. 

At  first  he  was  unsuccessful  because  there  were 
many  Hussein  Effendis  in  Durazzo.  He  sent  an 
invitation  to  the  American  Consul  to  come  over 
to  tiffin  and  help  him. 

"Why  the  dickens  the  Foreign  Office  should 
suddenly  be  interested  in  Hussein  Effendi,  I  can- 
not for  the  life  of  me  understand." 

283 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"The  Foreign  Department  has  to  be  interested 
in  something,  you  know,"  said  the  genial  Ameri- 
can. "I  receive  some  of  the  quaintest  requests 
from  Washington;  I  rather  fancy  they  only  wire 
you  to  find  if  they  are  there." 

"Why  are  you  doing  this?" 

"I've  seen  Hakaat  Bey,"  said  the  English  of- 
ficial. "I  wonder  what  this  fellow  has  been  do- 
ing? There  is  probably  a  wigging  for  me  in  the 
offing." 

At  about  the  same  time  the  sewerman  in  the 
bosom  of  his  own  family  was  taking  loud  and 
noisy  sips  from  a  big  mug  of  tea. 

"Don't  you  be  surprised,"  he  said  to  his  admir- 
ing better  half,  "if  I  have  to  go  up  to  the  Old 
Bailey  to  give  evidence." 

"Lord !  Joe !"  she  said  with  interest,  "what  has 
happened?" 

The  sewer  man  filled  his  pipe  and  told  the  story 
with  a  wealth  of  rambling  detail.  He  gave  par- 
ticulars of  the  hour  he  had  descended  the  Victoria 
Street  shaft,  of  what  Bill  Morgan  had  said  to  him 
as  they  were  going  down,  of  what  he  had  said  to 

£84 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Harry  Carter  as  they  splashed  along  the  low- 
roofed  tunnel,  of  how  he  had  a  funny  feeling  that 
he  was  going  to  make  a  discovery,  and  so  on  and  so 
forth  until  he  reached  his  long  delayed  climax. 

T.  X.  waited  up  very  late  that  night  and  at 

twelve  o'clock  his  patience  was  rewarded,  for  the 

Foreign  Office  messenger  brought  a  telegram  to 

him.     It  was  addressed  to  the  Chief  Secretary  and 

ran: 

"No.  847.  Yours  63952  of  yesterday's  date.  Begins. 
Hussein  Effendi  a  prosperous  merchant  of  this  city  left 
for  Italy  to  place  his  daughter  in  convent  Marie  Theressa, 
Florence  Hussein  being  Christian.  He  goes  on  to  Paris. 
Apply  Ralli  Theokritis  et  Cie.,  Rue  de  I'Opera.     Ends." 

Half  an  hour  later  T.  X.  had  a  telephone  con- 
nection through  to  Paris  and  was  instructing  the 
British  police  agent  in  that  city.  He  received  a 
further  telephone  report  from  Paris  the  next  morn- 
ing and  one  which  gave  him  infinite  satisfaction. 
Very  slowly  but  surely  he  was  gathering  together 
the  pieces  of  this  baffling  mystery  and  was  fitting 
them  together.  Hussein  Effendi  would  probably 
supply  the  last  missing  segments. 

285 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

At  eight  o'clock  that  night  the  door  opened  and 
the  man  who  represented  T.  X.  in  Paris  came  in 
carrying  a  travelling  ulster  on  his  arm.  T.  X. 
gave  him  a  nod  and  then,  as  the  newcomer  stood 
with  the  door  open,  obviously  waiting  for  some- 
body to  follow  him,  he  said, 

"Show  him  in — I  will  see  him  alone." 

There  walked  into  his  office,  a  tall  man  wearing 
a  frock  coat  and  a  red  fez.  He  was  a  man  from 
fifty-five  to  sixty,  powerfully  built,  with  a  grave 
dark  face  and  a  thin  fringe  of  white  beard.  He 
salaamed  as  he  entered. 

*'You  speak  French,  I  believe,"  said  T.  X.  pres- 
ently. 

The  other  bowed. 

"My  agent  has  explained  to  you,"  said  T.  X. 
in  French,  "that  I  desire  some  information  for  the 
purpose  of  clearing  up  a  crime  which  has  been 
committed  in  this  country.  I  have  given  you  my 
assurance,  if  that  assurance  was  necessary,  that  you 
would  come  to  no  harm  as  a  result  of  anything 
you  might  tell  me." 

^6 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"That  I  understand,  Effendi,"  said  the  tall 
Turk;  "the  Americans  and  the  English  have  al- 
ways been  good  friends  of  mine  and  I  have  been 
frequently  in  London.  Therefore,  I  shall  be  very 
pleased  to  be  of  any  help  to  you." 

T.  X.  walked  to  a  closed  bookcase  on  one  side 
of  the  room,  unlocked  it,  took  out  an  object 
wrapped  in  white  tissue  paper.  He  laid  this  on 
the  table,  the  Turk  watching  the  proceedings  with 
an  impassive  face.  Very  slowly  the  Commis- 
sioner unrolled  the  little  bundle  and  revealed  at 
last  a  long,  slim  knife,  rusted  and  stained,  with  a 
hilt,  which  in  its  untarnished  days  had  evidently 
been  of  chased  silver.  He  lifted  the  dagger  from 
the  table  and  handed  it  to  the  Turk. 

"This  is  yours,  I  believe,"  he  said  softly. 

The  man  turned  it  over,  stepping  nearer  the 
table  that  he  might  secure  the  advantage  of  a 
better  light.  He  examined  the  blade  near  the 
hilt  and  handed  the  weapon  back  to  T.  X. 

"That  is  my  knife,"  he  said. 

T.  X.  smiled. 

287 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"You  understand,  of  course,  that  I  saw  'Hus- 
sein Effendi  of  Durazzo'  inscribed  in  Arabic  near 
the  hilt." 

The  Turk  inclined  his  head. 

"With  this  weapon,"  T.  X.  went  on,  speaking 
with  slow  emphasis,  "a  murder  was  committed  in 
this  town." 

There  was  no  sign  of  interest  or  astonishment, 
or  indeed  of  any  emotion  whatever. 

"It  is  the  will  of  God,"  he  said  calmly;  "these 
things  happen  even  in  a  great  city  like  London." 

"It  was  your  knife,"  suggested  T.  X. 

"But  my  hand  was  in  Durazzo,  Eflendi,"  said 
the  Turk. 

He  looked  at  the  knife  again. 

"So  the  Black  Roman  is  dead,  Effendi." 

"The  Black  Roman?"  asked  T.  X.,  a  little 
puzzled. 

"The  Greek  they  call  Kara,"  said  the  Turk;  "he 
was  a  very  wicked  man." 

T.  X.  was  up  on  his  feet  now,  leaning  across 
the  table  and  looking  at  the  other  with  narrowed 
eyes. 

288 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"How  did  you  know  it  was  Kara^"  he  asked 
quickly. 

The  Turk  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

**Who  else  could  it  be?"  he  said;  "are  not  your 
newspapers  filled  with  the  story*?" 

T.  X.  sat  back  again,  disappointed  and  a  little 
angry  with  himself. 

"That  is  true,  Hussein  Effendi,  but  I  did  not 
think  you  read  the  papers." 

"Neither  do  I,  master,"  replied  the  other  coolly, 
"nor  did  I  know  that  Kara  had  been  killed  until 
I  saw  this  knife.  How  came  this  in  your  pos- 
session?" 

"It  was  found  in  a  rain  sewer,"  said  T.  X., 
"into  which  the  murderer  had  apparently  dropped 
it.  But  if  you  have  not  read  the  newspapers,  Ef- 
fendi, then  you  admit  that  you  know  who  commit- 
ted this  murder." 

The  Turk  raised  his  hands  slowly  to  a  level 
with  his  shoulders. 

"Though  I  am  a  Christian,"  he  said,  "there  are 
many  wise  sayings  of  my  father's  religion  which  I 
remember.     And  one  of  these,  Effendi,  was,  *the 

S89 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

wicked  must  die  in  the  habitations  of  the  just;  by 
the  weapons  of  the  worthy  shall  the  wicked  perish.' 
Your  Excellency,  I  am  a  worthy  man,  for  never 
have  I  done  a  dishonest  thing  in  my  life.  I  have 
traded  fairly  with  Greeks,  with  Italians,  with 
Frenchmen  and  with  Englishmen,  also  with  Jews. 
I  have  never  sought  to  rob  them  nor  to  hurt  them. 
If  I  have  killed  men,  God  knows  it  was  not  be- 
cause I  desired  their  death,  but  because  their  lives 
were  dangerous  to  me  and  to  mine.  Ask  the  blade 
all  your  questions  and  see  what  answer  it  gives. 
Until  it  speaks  I  am  as  dumb  as  the  blade,  for  it 
is  also  written  that  'the  soldier  is  the  servant  of 
his  sword,'  and  also,  'the  wise  servant  is  dumb 
about  his  master's  affairs.'  " 

T.  X.  laughed  helplessly. 

"I  had  hoped  that  you  might  be  able  to  help 
me,  hoped  and  feared,"  he  said;  "if  you  cannot 
speak  it  is  not  my  business  to  force  you  either  by 
threat  or  by  act.  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  having 
come  over,  although  the  visit  has  been  rather  fruit- 
less so  far  as  I  am  concerned." 

He  smiled  again  and  offered  his  hand. 
290 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"Excellency,"  said  the  old  Turk  soberly,  "there 
are  some  things  in  life  that  are  well  left  alone  and 
there  are  moments  when  justice  should  be  so  blind 
that  she  does  not  see  guilt — ^here  is  such  a  mo- 
ment." 

And  this  ended  the  interview,  one  on  which 
T.  X.  had  set  very  high  hopes.  His  gloom  car- 
ried to  Portman  Place,  where  he  had  arranged  to 
meet  Belinda  Mary. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Lexman  going  to  give  this  fa- 
mous lecture  of  his*?"  was  the  question  with  which 
she  greeted  him,  "and,  please,  what  is  the  sub- 
ject?» 

"It  is  on  a  subject  which  is  of  supreme  interest 
to  me,"  he  said  gravely;  "he  has  called  his  lecture 
The  Clue  of  the  Twisted  Candle.'  There  is  no 
clearer  brain  being  employed  in  the  business  of 
criminal  detection  than  John  Lexman's.  Though 
he  uses  his  genius  for  the  construction  of  stories, 
were  it  employed  in  the  legitimate  business  of  po- 
lice work,  I  am  certain  he  would  make  a  mark 
second  to  none  in  the  world.  He  is  determined 
on  giving  this  lecture  and  he  has  issued  a  number 

291 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

of  invitations.  These  include  the  Chiefs  of  the 
Secret  Police  of  nearly  all  the  civilized  countries 
of  the  world.  O' Grady  is  on  his  way  from 
America,  he  wirelessed  me  this  morning  to  that  ef- 
fect. Even  the  Chief  of  the  Russian  police  has 
accepted  the  invitation,  because,  as  you  know,  this 
murder  has  excited  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  po- 
lice circles  everywhere.  John  Lexman  is  not  only 
going  to  deliver  this  lecture,"  he  said  slowly,  "but 
he  is  going  to  tell  us  who  committed  the  murder 
and  how  it  was  committed." 

She  thought  a  moment. 

"Where  will  it  be  delivered'?" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said  in  astonishment;  "does 
that  matter?' 

"It  matters  a  great  deal,"  she  said  emphatically, 
"especially  if  I  want  it  delivered  in  a  certain  place. 
Would  you  induce  Mr.  Lexman  to  lecture  at  my 
house?' 

"At  Portman  Place*?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"No,  I  have  a  house  of  my  own.  A  furnished 
house  I  have  rented  at  Blackheath.     Will  you  in- 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

duce  Mr.  Lexman  to  give  the  lecture  there'?" 

"But  why*?"  he  asked. 

"Please  don't  ask  questions,"  she  pleaded,  "do 
this  for  me,  Tommy." 

He  saw  she  was  in  earnest. 

"I'll  write  to  old  Lexman  this  afternoon,"  he 
promised. 

John  Lexman  telephoned  his  reply. 

"I  should  prefer  somewhere  out  of  London,"  he 
said,  "and  since  Miss  Bartholomew  has  some  in- 
terest in  the  matter,  may  I  extend  my  invitation 
to  her — I  promise  she  shall  not  be  any  more 
shocked  than  a  good  woman  need  be." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  the  name  of  Belinda 
Mary  Bartholomew  was  added  to  the  selected  list 
of  police  chiefs,  who  were  making  for  London  at 
that  moment  to  hear  from  the  man  who  had  guar- 
anteed the  solution  of  the  story  of  Kara  and  his 
killing;  the  unravelment  of  the  mystery  which 
surrounded  his  death,  and  the  significance  of  the 
twisted  candles,  which  at  that  moment  were  re- 
posing in  the  Black  Museum  at  Scotland  Yard. 


293 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  room  was  a  big  one  and  most  of  the  furni- 
ture had  been  cleared  out  to  admit  the  guests  who 
had  come  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  learn  the 
story  of  the  twisted  candles,  and  to  test  John 
Lexman's  theory  by  their  own. 

They  sat  around  chatting  cheerfully  of  men  and 
crimes,  of  great  coups  planned  and  frustrated,  of 
strange  deeds  committed  and  undetected.  Scraps 
of  their  conversation  came  to  Belinda  Mary  as 
she  stood  in  the  chintz-draped  doorway  which 
led  from  the  drawing-room  to  the  room  she  used 
as  a  study. 

".  .  .  do  you  remember,  Sir  George,  the  Bol- 
brook  case?     I  took  the  man  at  Odessa.  .  .  ." 

".  .  .  the  curious  thing  was  that  I  found  no 
money  on  the  body,  only  a  small  gold  charm  set 
with  a  single  emerald,  so  I  knew  it  was  the  girl 
with  the  fur  bonnet  who  had  .  .  ." 

9Q^ 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED.  CANDLE 

".  .  .  Pinot  got  away  after  putting  three  bul- 
lets into  me,  but  I  dragged  myself  to  the  window 
and  shot  him  dead — it  was  a  real  good  shot  .  .  . !" 

They  rose  to  meet  her  and  T.  X.  introduced  her 
to  the  men.  It  was  at  that  moment  that  John 
Lexman  was  announced. 

He  looked  tired,  but  returned  the  Commission- 
er's greeting  with  a  cheerful  mien.  He  knew  all 
the  men  present  by  name,  as  they  knew  him.  He 
had  a  few  sheets  of  notes,  which  he  laid  on  the 
little  table  which  had  been  placed  for  him,  and 
when  the  introductions  were  finished  he  went  to 
this  and  with  scarcely  any  preliminary  began. 


295 


CHARTER  XXI 

THE  NARRATIVE  OF  JOHN  LEXMAN 

"I  AM,  as  you  may  all  know,  a  writer  of  stories 
which  depend  for  their  success  upon  the  creation 
and  unravelment  of  criminological  mysteries. 
The  Chief  Commissioner  has  been  good  enough 
to  tell  you  that  my  stories  were  something  more 
than  a  mere  seeking  after  sensation,  and  that  I 
endeavoured  in  the  course  of  those  narratives  to 
propound  obscure  but  possible  situations,  and, 
with  the  ingenuity  that  I  could  command,  to  of- 
fer to  those  problems  a  solution  acceptable,  not 
only  to  the  general  reader,  but  to  the  police  expert. 

"Although  I  did  not  regard  my  earlier  work 
with  any  great  seriousness  and  indeed  only  sought 
after  exciting  situations  and  incidents,  I  can  see 
now,  looking  back,  that  underneath  the  work 
which  seemed  at  the  time  purposeless,  there  was 
something  very  much  like  a  scheme  of  studies. 

"You  must  forgive  this  egotism  in  me  because 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

it  is  necessary  that  I  should  make  this  explanation 
and  you,  who  are  in  the  main  police  officers  of 
considerable  experience  and  discernment,  should 
appreciate  the  fact  that  as  I  was  able  to  get  inside 
the  minds  of  the  fictitious  criminals  I  portrayed, 
so  am  I  now  able  to  follow  the  mind  of  the  man 
who  committed  this  murder,  or  if  not  to  follow 
his  mind,  to  recreate  the  psychology  of  the  slayer 
of  Remington  Kara. 

"In  the  possession  of  most  of  you  are  the  vital 
facts  concerning  this  man.  You  know  the  type 
of  man  he  was,  you  have  instances  of  his  terrible 
ruthlessness,  you  know  that  he  was  a  blot  upon 
God's  earth,  a  vicious  wicked  ego,  seeking  the 
gratification  of  that  strange  blood-lust  and  pain- 
lust,  which  is  to  be  found  in  so  few  criminals." 

John  Lexman  went  on  to  describe  the  killing 
of  Vassalaro. 

"I  know  now  how  that  occurred,"  he  said.  "I 
had  received  on  the  previous  Christmas  eve 
amongst  other  presents,  a  pistol  from  an  unknown 
admirer.  That  unknown  admirer  was  Kara,  who 
had   planned   this    murder   some    three   months 

897 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

ahead.  He  it  was,  who  sent  me  the  Browning, 
knowing  as  he  did  that  I  had  never  used  such  a 
weapon  and  that  therefore  I  would  be  chary  about 
using  it.  I  might  have  put  the  pistol  away  in  a 
cupboard  out  of  reach  and  the  whole  of  his  care- 
fully thought  out  plan  would  have  miscarried. 

"But  Kara  was  systematic  in  all  things.  Three 
weeks  after  I  received  the  weapon,  a  clumsy  at- 
tempt was  made  to  break  into  my  house  in  the 
middle  of  the  night.  It  struck  me  at  the  time  it 
was  clumsy,  because  the  burglar  made  a  tremen- 
dous amount  of  noise  and  disappeared  soon  after 
he  began  his  attempt,  doing  no  more  damage  than 
to  break  a  window  in  my  dining-room.  Natur- 
ally my  mind  went  to  the  possibility  of  a  further 
attempt  of  this  kind,  as  my  house  stood  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  village,  and  it  was  only  natural 
that  I  should  take  the  pistol  from  one  of  my  boxes 
and  put  it  somewhere  handy.  To  make  doubly 
sure,  Kara  came  down  the  next  day  and  heard  the 
full  story  of  the  outrage. 

"He  did  not  speak  of  pistols,  but  I  remember 
now,  though  I  did  not  remember  at  the  time,  that 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

I  mentioned  the  fact  that  I  had  a  handy  weapon. 
A  fortnight  later  a  second  attempt  was  made  to 
enter  the  house.  I  say  an  attempt,  but  again  I 
do  not  believe  that  the  intention  was  at  all  seri- 
ous. The  outrage  was  designed  to  keep  that  pistol 
of  mine  in  a  get-at-able  place. 

"And  again  Kara  came  down  to  see  us  on  the 
day  following  the  burglary,  and  again  I  must 
have  told  him,  though  I  have  no  distinct  recollec- 
tion of  the  fact,  of  what  had  happened  the  pre- 
vious night.  It  would  have  been  unnatural  if  I 
had  not  mentioned  the  fact,  as  it  was  a  matter 
which  had  formed  a  subject  of  discussion  between 
myself,  my  wife  and  the  servants. 

"Then  came  the  threatening  letter,  with  Kara 
providentially  at  hand.  On  the  night  of  the  mur- 
der, whilst  Kara  was  still  in  my  house,  I  went  out 
to  find  his  chauffeur.  Kara  remained  a  few  min- 
utes with  my  wife  and  then  on  some  excuse  went 
into  the  library.  There  he  loaded  the  pistol, 
placing  one  cartridge  in  the  chamber,  and  trust- 
ing to  luck  that  I  did  not  pull  the  trigger  until  I 
had  it  pointed  at  my  victim.    Here  he  took  his  big- 

299 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

gest  chance,  because,  before  sending  the  weapon 
to  me,  he  had  had  the  spring  of  the  Browning  so 
eased  that  the  slightest  touch  set  it  off  and,  as  you 
know,  the  pistol  being  automatic,  the  explosion 
of  one  cartridge,  reloading  and  firing  the  next  and 
so  on,  it  was  probably  that  a  chance  touch  would 
have  brought  his  scheme  to  nought — probably  me 
also. 

"Of  what  happened  on  that  night  you  are 
aware." 

He  went  on  to  tell  of  his  trial  and  conviction 
and  skimmed  over  the  life  he  led  until  that  morn- 
ing on  Dartmoor. 

"Kara  knew  my  innocence  had  been  proved  and 
his  hatred  for  me  being  his  great  obsession,  since 
I  had  the  thing  he  had  wanted — but  no  longer 
wanted,  let  that  be  understood — ^he  saw  the  misery 
he  had  planned  for  me  and  my  dear  wife  being 
brought  to  a  sudden  end.  He  had,  by  the  way, 
already  planned  and  carried  his  plan  into  execu- 
tion, a  system  of  tormenting  her. 

"You  did  not  know,"  he  turned  to  T.  X.,  "that 
scarcely  a  month  passed,  but  some  disreputable 

300 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

villain  called  at  her  flat,  with  a  story  that  he 
had  been  released  from  Portland  or  Wormwood 
Scrubbs  that  morning  and  that  he  had  seen  me. 
The  story  each  messenger  brought  was  one  suffi- 
cient to  break  the  heart  of  any  but  the  bravest 
woman.  It  was  a  story  of  ill-treatment  by 
brutal  officials,  of  my  illness,  of  my  madness,  of 
everything  calculated  to  harrow  the  feelings  of  a 
tender-hearted  and  faithful  wife. 

"That  was  Kara's  scheme.  Not  to  hurt  with 
the  whip  or  with  the  knife,  but  to  cut  deep  at  the 
heart  with  his  evil  tongue,  to  cut  to  the  raw  places 
of  the  mind.  When  he  found  that  I  was  to  be 
released, — he  may  have  guessed,  or  he  may  have 
discovered  by  some  underhand  method,  that  a  par- 
don was  about  to  be  signed, — he  conceived  his 
great  plan.  He  had  less  than  two  days  to  exe- 
cute it. 

"Through  one  of  his  agents  he  discovered  a 
warder  who  had  been  in  some  trouble  with  the 
authorities,  a  man  who  was  avaricious  and  was 
even  then  on  the  brink  of  being  discharged  from 
the  service  for  trafficking  with  prisoners.  The 
801 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

bribe  he  offered  this  man  was  a  heavy  one  and  the 
warder  accepted. 

"Kara  had  purchased  a  new  monoplane  and  as 
you  know  he  was  an  excellent  aviator.  With 
this  new  machine  he  flew  to  Devon  and  arrived 
at  dawn  i::  one  of  the  unfrequented  parts  of  the 
moor. 

"The  story  of  my  own  escape  needs  no  telling. 
My  narrative  really  begins  from  the  moment  I 
put  my  foot  upon  the  deck  of  the  Mpret.  The 
first  person  I  asked  to  see  was,  naturally,  my  wife. 
Kara,  however,  insisted  on  my  going  to  the  cabin 
he  had  prepared  and  changing  my  clothes,  and 
until  then  I  did  not  realise  I  was  still  in  my  con- 
vict's garb.  A  clean  change  was  waiting  for  me, 
and  the  luxury  of  soft  shirts  and  well-fitting  gar- 
ments after  the  prison  uniform  I  cannot  describe. 

"After  I  was  dressed  I  was  taken  by  the  Greek 
steward  to  the  larger  stateroom  and  there  I  found 
my  darling  waiting  for  me." 

His  voice  sank  almost  to  a  whisper,  and  it  was 
a  minute  or  two  before  he  had  mastered  his  emo- 
tion. 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"She  had  been  suspicious  of  Kara,  but  he  had 
been  very  insistent.  He  had  detailed  the  plans 
and  shown  her  the  monoplane,  but  even  then  she 
would  not  trust  herself  on  board,  and  she  had 
been  waiting  in  a  motor-boat,  moving  parallel 
with  the  yacht,  until  she  saw  the  landing  and  re- 
alized, as  she  thought,  that  Kara  was  not  playing 
her  false.  The  motor-boat  had  been  hired  by 
Kara  and  the  two  men  inside  were  probably  as 
well-bribed  as  the  warder. 

"The  joy  of  freedom  can  only  be  known  to 
those  who  have  suffered  the  horrors  of  restraint. 
That  is  a  trite  enough  statement,  but  when  one 
is  describing  elemental  things  there  is  no  room  for 
subtlety.  The  voyage  was  a  fairly  eventless  one. 
We  saw  very  little  of  Kara,  who  did  not  intrude 
himself  upon  us,  and  our  main  excitement  lay  in 
the  apprehension  that  we  should  be  held  up  by  a 
British  destroyer  or,  that  when  we  reached  Gibral- 
tar, we  should  be  searched  by  the  British  authori- 
ties. Kara  had  foreseen  that  possibility  and  had 
taken  in  enough  coal  to  last  him  for  the  run. 

"We  had  a  fairly  stormy  passage  in  the 
303 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Mediterranean,  but  after  that  nothing  happened 
until  we  arrived  at  Durazzo.  We  had  to  go 
ashore  in  disguise,  because  Kara  told  us  that  the 
English  Consul  might  see  us  and  make  some 
trouble.  We  wore  Turkish  dresses,  Grace  heavily 
veiled  and  I  wearing  a  greasy  old  kaftan  which, 
with  my  somewhat  emaciated  face  and  my  un- 
shaven appearance,  passed  me  without  com- 
ment. 

"Kara's  home  was  and  is  about  eighteen  miles 
from  Durazzo.  It  is  not  on  the  main  road,  but 
it  is  reached  by  following  one  of  the  rocky  moun- 
tain paths  which  wind  and  twist  among  the  hills 
to  the  south-east  of  the  town.  The  country  is 
wild  and  mainly  uncultivated.  We  had  to  pass 
through  swamps  and  skirt  huge  lagoons  as  we 
mounted  higher  and  higher  from  terrace  to  ter- 
race and  came  to  the  roads  which  crossed  the 
mountains. 

"Kara's  palace,  you  could  call  it  no  less,  is 
really  built  within  sight  of  the  sea.  It  is  on  the 
Acroceraunian  Peninsula  near  Cape  Linguetta. 
Hereabouts  the  country  is  more  populated  and 

304 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

better  cultivated.  We  passed  great  slopes  en- 
tirely covered  with  mulberry  and  olive  trees, 
whilst  in  the  valleys  there  were  fields  of  maize  and 
corn.  The  palazzo  stands  on  a  lofty  plateau. 
It  is  approached  by  two  paths,  which  can  be  and 
have  been  well  defended  in  the  past  against  the 
Sultan's  troops  or  against  the  bands  which  have 
been  raised  by  rival  villages  with  the  object  of 
storming  and  plundering  this  stronghold. 

"The  Skipetars,  a  blood-thirsty  crowd  without 
pity  or  remorse,  were  faithful  enough  to  their 
chief,  as  Kara  was.  He  paid  them  so  well  that 
it  was  not  profitable  to  rob  him ;  moreover  he  kept 
their  own  turbulent  elements  fully  occupied  with 
the  little  raids  which  he  or  his  agents  organized 
from  time  to  time.  The  palazzo  was  built  rather 
in  the  Moorish  than  in  the  Turkish  style. 

'Tt  was  a  sort  of  Eastern  type  to  which  was 
grafted  an  Italian  architecture — a  house  of  white- 
columned  courts,  of  big  paved  yards,  fountains 
and  cool,  dark  rooms. 

"When  I  passed  through  the  gates  I  realized 
for  the  first  time  something  of  Kara's  importance. 

S05 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

There  were  a  score  of  servants,  all  Eastern,  per- 
fectly trained,  silent  and  obsequious.  He  led  us 
to  his  own  room. 

"It  was  a  big  apartment  with  divans  running 
round  the  wall,  the  most  ornate  French  drawing 
room  suite  and  an  enormous  Persian  carpet,  one 
of  the  finest  of  the  kind  that  has  ever  been  turned 
out  of  Shiraz.  Here,  let  me  say,  that  through- 
out the  trip  his  attitude  to  me  had  been  perfectly 
friendly  and  towards  Grace  all  that  I  could  ask 
of  my  best  friend,  considerate  and  tactful. 

"We  had  hardly  reached  his  room  before  he 
said  to  me  with  that  bonhomie  which  he  had 
observed  throughout  the  trip,  'You  would  like 
to  see  your  room*?' 

"I  expressed  a  wish  to  that  effect.  He  clapped 
his  hands  and  a  big  Albanian  servant  came 
through  the  curtained  doorway,  made  the  usual 
salaam,  and  Kara  spoke  to  him  a  few  words  in  a 
language  which  I  presume  was  Turkish. 

"  'He  will  show  you  the  way,'  said  Kara  with 
his  most  genial  smile. 

"I  followed  the  servant  through  the  curtains 
306 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

which  had  hardly  fallen  behind  me  before  I  was 
seized  by  four  men,  flung  violently  on  the  ground, 
a  filthy  tarbosch  was  thrust  into  my  mouth  and 
before  I  knew  what  was  happening  I  was  bound 
hand  and  foot. 

"As  I  realised  the  gross  treachery  of  the  man, 
my  first  frantic  thoughts  were  of  Grace  and  her 
safety.  I  struggled  with  the  strength  of  three 
men,  but  they  were  too  many  for  me  and  I  was 
dragged  along  the  passage,  a  door  was  opened  and 
I  was  flung  into  a  bare  room.  I  must  have  been 
lying  on  the  floor  for  half  an  hour  when  they 
came  for  me,  this  time  accompanied  by  a  middle- 
aged  man  named  Savolio,  who  was  either  an 
Italian  or  a  Greek. 

"He  spoke  English  fairly  well  and  he  made  it 
clear  to  me  that  I  had  to  behave  myself.  I  was 
led  back  to  the  room  from  whence  I  had  come  and 
found  Kara  sitting  in  one  of  those  big  armchairs 
which  he  affected,  smoking  a  cigarette.  Confront- 
ing him,  still  in  her  Turkish  dress,  was  poor 
Grace.  She  was  not  bound  I  was  pleased  to  see, 
but  when  on  my  entrance  she  rose  and  made  as 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

if  to  come  towards  me,  she  was  unceremoniously 
thrown  back  by  the  guardian  who  stood  at  her 
side. 

"  'Mr.  John  Lexman,*  drawled  Kara,  'you  are 
at  the  beginning  of  a  great  disillusionment.  I 
have  a  few  things  to  tell  you  which  will  make  you 
feel  rather  uncomfortable.'  It  was  then  that  I 
heard  for  the  first  time  that  my  pardon  had  been 
signed  and  my  innocence  discovered. 

"  'Having  taken  a  great  deal  of  trouble  to  get 
you  in  prison,'  said  Kara,  'it  isn't  likely  that  I'm 
going  to  allow  all  my  plans  to  be  undone,  and 
my  plan  is  to  make  you  both  extremely  uncom- 
fortable.' 

"He  did  not  raise  his  voice,  speaking  still  in 
the  same  conversational  tone,  suave  and  half 
amused. 

"  'I  hate  you  for  two  things,'  he  said,  and  ticked 
them  off  on  his  fingers:  'the  first  is  that  you  took 
the  woman  that  I  wanted.  To  a  man  of  my  tem- 
perament that  is  an  unpardonable  crime.  I  have 
never  wanted  women  either  as  friends  or  as  amuse- 
ment.    I  am  one  of  the  few  people  in  the  world 

308 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

who  are  self-sufficient.  It  happened  that  I 
wanted  your  wife  and  she  rejected  me  because 
apparently  she  preferred  you.* 

"He  looked  at  me  quizzically. 

"  *You  are  thinking  at  this  moment,*  he  went 
on  slowly,  'that  I  want  her  now,  and  that  it  is 
part  of  my  revenge  that  I  shall  put  her  straight 
in  my  harem.  Nothing  is  farther  from  my  de- 
sires or  my  thoughts.  The  Black  Roman  is  not 
satisfied  with  the  leavings  of  such  poor  trash  as 
you.  I  hate  you  both  equally  and  for  both  of 
you  there  is  waiting  an  experience  more  terrible 
than  even  your  elastic  imagination  can  conjure. 
You  understand  what  that  means?'  he  asked  me 
still  retaining  his  calm. 

"I  did  not  reply.  I  dared  not  look  at  Grace, 
to  whom  he  turned. 

"  T  believe  you  love  your  husband,  my  friend,* 
he  said;  'your  love  will  be  put  to  a  very  severe 
test.  You  shall  see  him  the  mere  wreckage  of 
the  man  he  is.  You  shall  see  him  brutalized  be- 
low the  level  of  the  cattle  in  the  field.  I  will 
give  you  both  no  joys,  no  ease  of  mind.     From 

809 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

this  moment  you  are  slaves,  and  worse  than 
slaves.' 

"He  clapped  his  hands.  The  interview  was 
ended  and  from  that  moment  I  only  saw  Grace 
once." 

John  Lexman  stopped  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands. 

"They  took  me  to  an  underground  dungeon  cut 
in  the  solid  rock.  In  many  ways  it  resembled  the 
dungeon  of  the  Chateau  of  Chillon,  in  that  its 
only  window  looked  out  upon  a  wild,  storm-swept 
lake  and  its  floor  was  jagged  rock.  I  have  called 
it  underground,  as  indeed  it  was  on  that  side,  for 
the  palazzo  was  built  upon  a  steep  slope  running 
down  from  the  spur  of  the  hills. 

"They  chained  me  by  the  legs  and  left  me  to 
my  own  devices.  Once  a  day  they  gave  me  a 
little  goat-flesh  and  a  pannikin  of  water  and  once 
a  week  Kara  would  come  in  and  outside  the  ra- 
dius of  my  chain  he  would  open  a  little  camp 
stool  and  sitting  down  smoke  his  cigarette  and 
talk.  My  God !  the  things  that  man  said !  The 
things  he   described!     The  horrors  he   related! 

310 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

And  always  it  was  Grace  who  was  the  centre  of 
his  description.  And  he  would  relate  the  stories 
he  was  telling  to  her  about  myself.  I  cannot  de- 
scribe them.     They  are  beyond  repetition." 

John  Lexman  shuddered  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"That  was  his  weapon.  He  did  not  confront 
me  with  the  torture  of  my  darling,  he  did  not 
bring  tangible  evidence  of  her  suffering — ^he  just 
sat  and  talked,  describing  with  a  remarkable  clar- 
ity of  language  which  seemed  incredible  in  a  for- 
eigner, the  'amusements'  which  he  himself  had 
witnessed. 

*T  thought  I  should  go  mad.  Twice  I  sprang 
at  him  and  twice  the  chain  about  my  legs  threw 
me  headlong  on  that  cruel  floor.  Once  he  brought 
the  jailer  in  to  whip  me,  but  I  took  the  whipping 
with  such  phlegm  that  it  gave  him  no  satisfaction. 
I  told  you  I  had  seen  Grace  only  once  and  this  is 
how  it  happened. 

"It  was  after  the  flogging,  and  Kara,  who  was 
a  veritable  demon  in  his  rage,  planned  to  have 
his  revenge  for  my  indifference.  They  brought 
Grace  out  upon  a  boat  and  rowed  the  boat  to 

311 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

where  I  could  see  it  from  my  window.  There  the 
whip  which  had  been  applied  to  me  was  applied  to 
her.  I  can't  tell  you  any  more  about  that,"  he 
said  brokenly,  "but  I  wish,  you  don't  know  how 
fervently,  that  I  had  broken  down  and  given  the 
dog  the  satisfaction  he  wanted.  My  God  I  It 
was  horrible ! 

"When  the  winter  came  they  used  to  take  me 
out  with  chains  on  my  legs  to  gather  in  wood  from 
the  forest.  There  was  no  reason  why  I  should  be 
given  this  work,  but  the  truth  was,  as  I  discovered 
from  Salvolio,  that  Kara  thought  my  dungeon  was 
too  warm.  It  was  sheltered  from  the  winds  by 
the  hill  behind  and  even  on  the  coldest  days  and 
nights  it  was  not  unbearable.  Then  Kara  went 
away  for  some  time.  I  think  he  must  have  gone 
to  England,  and  he  came  back  in  a  white  fury. 
One  of  his  big  plans  had  gone  wrong  and  the  men- 
tal torture  he  inflicted  upon  me  was  more  acute 
than  ever. 

"In  the  old  days  he  used  to  come  once  a  week, 
now  he  came  almost  every  day.  He  usually  ar- 
rived in  the  afternoon  and  I  was  surprised  one 

312 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

night  to  be  awakened  from  my  sleep  to  see  him 
standing  at  the  door,  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  his 
inevitable  cigarette  in  his  mouth.  He  always 
wore  the  Albanian  costume  when  he  was  in  the 
country,  those  white  kilted  skirts  and  zouave  jack- 
ets which  the  hillsmen  affect  and,  if  anything,  it 
added  to  his  demoniacal  appearance.  He  put 
down  the  lantern  and  leant  against  the  wall. 

"  Tm  afraid  that  wife  of  yours  is  breaking 
up,  Lexman,'  he  drawled;  'she  isn't  the  good, 
stout,  English  stuff  that  I  thought  she  was.' 

"I  made  no  reply.  I  had  found  by  bitter  ex- 
perience that  if  I  intruded  into  the  conversation, 
I  should  only  suffer  the  more. 

"  T  have  sent  down  to  Durazzo  to  get  a  doc- 
tor,' he  went  on;  'naturally  having  taken  all  this 
trouble  I  don't  want  to  lose  you  by  death.  She 
is  breaking  up,'  he  repeated  with  relish  and  yet 
with  an  undertone  of  annoyance  in  his  voice;  'she 
asked  for  you  three  times  this  morning.' 

"I  kept  myself  under  control  as  I  had  never 
expected  that  a  man  so  desperately  circumstanced 
could  do. 

813 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"  'Kara/  I  said  as  quietly  as  I  could,  'what  has 
she  done  that  she  should  deserve  this  hell  in  which 
she  has  lived  ^' 

"He  sent  out  a  long  ring  of  smoke  and  watched 
its  progress  across  the  dungeon. 

"  'What  has  she  done?'  he  said,  keeping  his 
eye  on  the  ring — I  shall  always  remember  every 
look,  every  gesture,  and  every  intonation  of  his 
voice.  'Why,  she  has  done  all  that  a  woman  can 
do  for  a  man  like  me.  She  has  made  me  feel 
little.  Until  I  had  a  rebuff  from  her,  I  had  all  the 
world  at  my  feet,  Lexman.  I  did  as  I  liked.  If  I 
crooked  my  little  finger,  people  ran  after  me  and 
that  one  experience  with  her  has  broken  me.  Oh, 
don't  think,'  he  went  on  quickly,  'that  I  am  broken 
in  love.  I  never  loved  her  very  much,  it  was  just 
a  passing  passion,  but  she  killed  my  self-confi- 
dence. After  then,  whenever  I  came  to  a  crucial 
moment  in  my  affairs,  when  the  big  manner,  the 
big  certainty  was  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to 
carry  my  way,  whenever  I  was  most  confident  of 
myself  and  my  ability  and  my  scheme,  a  vision  of 
this  damned  girl  rose  and  I  felt  that  momentary 

314} 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

weakening,  that  memory  of  defeat,  which  made 
all  the  difference  between  success  and  failure. 

"  T  hated  her  and  I  hate  her  still,'  he  said  with 
vehemence;  'if  she  dies  I  shall  hate  her  more  be- 
cause she  will  remain  everlastingly  unbroken  to 
menace  my  thoughts  and  spoil  my  schemes  through 
all  eternity.' 

"He  leant  forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
his  clenched  fist  under  his  chin — ^how  well  I  can 
see  him  I — and  stared  at  me. 

"  'I  could  have  been  king  here  in  this  land,' 
he  said,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  interior,  *I 
could  have  bribed  and  shot  my  way  to  the  throne 
of  Albania.  Don't  you  realize  what  that  means 
to  a  man  like  me?  There  is  still  a  chance  and  if 
I  could  keep  your  wife  alive,  if  I  could  see  her 
broken  in  reason  and  in  health,  a  poor,  skeleton, 
gibbering  thing  that  knelt  at  my  feet  when  I  came 
near  her  I  should  recover  the  mastery  of  myself. 
Believe  me,'  he  said,  nodding  his  head,  'your 
wife  will  have  the  best  medical  advice  that  it  is 
possible  to  obtain.' 

"Kara  went  out  and  I  did  not  see  him  again 
315 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

for  a  very  long  time.  He  sent  word,  just  a 
scrawled  note  in  the  morning,  to  say  my  wife  had 
died." 

John  Lexman  rose  up  from  his  seat,  and  paced 
the  apartment,  his  head  upon  his  breast. 

"From  that  moment,"  he  said,  "I  lived  only  for 
one  thing,  to  punish  Remington  Kara.  And 
gentlemen,  I  punished  him." 

He  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room  and 
thumped  his  broad  chest  with  his  clenched  hand. 

"I  killed  Remington  Kara,"  he  said,  and  there 
was  a  little  gasp  of  astonishment  from  every  man 
present  save  one.  That  one  was  T.  X.  Meredith, 
who  had  known  all  the  time. 


816 


CHAPTER  XXII 

After  a  while  Lexman  resumed  his  story. 

"I  told  you  that  there  was  a  man  at  the  palazzo 
named  Salvolio.  Salvolio  was  a  man  who  had 
been  undergoing  a  life  sentence  in  one  of  the  pris- 
ons of  southern  Italy.  In  some  mysterious  fash- 
ion he  escaped  and  got  across  the  Adriatic  in  a 
small  boat.  How  Kara  found  him  I  don't  know. 
Salvolio  was  a  very  uncommunicative  person.  I 
was  never  certain  whether  he  was  a  Greek  or  an 
Italian.  All  that  I  am  sure  about  is  that  he  was 
the  most  unmitigated  villain  next  to  his  master 
that  I  have  ever  met. 

"He  was  a  quick  man  with  his  knife  and  I  have 
seen  him  kill  one  of  the  guards  whom  he  had 
thought  was  favouring  me  in  the  matter  of  diet 
with  less  compunction  than  you  would  kill  a  rat. 

"It  was  he  who  gave  me  this  scar,"  John  Lex- 
man  pointed  to  his  cheek.     "In  his  master's  ab- 

317 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

sence  he  took  upon  himself  the  task  of  conducting 
a  clumsy  imitation  of  Kara's  persecution.  He 
gave  me,  too,  the  only  glimpse  I  ever  had  of  the 
torture  poor  Grace  underwent.  She  hated  dogs, 
and  Kara  must  have  come  to  know  this  and  in  her 
sleeping  room — she  was  apparently  better  accom- 
modated than  I — he  kept  four  fierce  beasts  so 
chained  that  they  could  almost  reach  her. 

"Some  reference  to  my  wife  from  this  low  brute 
maddened  me  beyond  endurance  and  I  sprang  at 
him.  He  whipped  out  his  knife  and  struck  at 
me  as  I  fell  and  I  escaped  by  a  miracle.  He  evi- 
dently had  orders  not  to  touch  me,  for  he  was  in 
a  great  panic  of  mind,  as  he  had  reason  to  be,  be- 
cause on  Kara's  return  he  discovered  the  state  of 
my  face,  started  an  enquiry  and  had  Salvolio 
taken  to  the  courtyard  in  the  true  eastern  style 
and  bastinadoed  until  his  feet  were  pulp. 

"You  may  be  sure  the  man  hated  me  with  a 
malignity  which  almost  rivalled  his  employer's. 
After  Grace's  death  Kara  went  away  suddenly  and 
I  was  left  to  the  tender  mercy  of  this  man.  Evi- 
dently he  had  been  given  a  fairly  free  hand.     The 

318 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

principal  object  of  Kara's  hate  being  dead,  he 
took  little  further  interest  in  me,  or  else  wearied 
of  his  hobby.  Salvolio  began  his  persecutions  by 
reducing  my  diet.  Fortunately  I  ate  very  little. 
Nevertheless  the  supplies  began  to  grow  less  and 
less,  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  the  effects  of  this 
starvation  system  when  there  happened  a  thing 
which  changed  the  whole  course  of  my  life  and 
opened  to  me  a  way  to  freedom  and  to  vengeance. 
"Salvolio  did  not  imitate  the  austerity  of  his 
master  and  in  Kara's  absence  was  in  the  habit  of 
having  little  orgies  of  his  own.  He  would  bring 
up  dancing  girls  from  Durazzo  for  his  amusement 
and  invite  prominent  men  in  the  neighbourhood 
to  his  feasts  and  entertainments,  for  he  was  ab- 
solutely lord  of  the  palazzo  when  Kara  was  away 
and  could  do  pretty  well  as  he  liked.  On  this 
particular  night  the  festivities  had  been  more  than 
usually  prolonged,  for  as  near  as  I  could  judge  by 
the  day-light  which  was  creeping  in  through  my 
window  it  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when  the  big  steel-sheeted  door  was  opened  and 
Salvolio  came  in,  more  than  a  little  drunk.     He 

319 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

brought  with  him,  as  I  judged,  one  of  his  dancing 
girls,  who  apparently  was  privileged  to  see  the 
sights  of  the  palace. 

*Tor  a  long  time  he  stood  in  the  doorway  talk- 
ing incoherently  in  a  language  which  I  think  must 
have  been  Turkish,  for  I  caught  one  or  two  words. 

"Whoever  the  girl  was,  she  seemed  a  little 
frightened,  I  could  see  that,  because  she  shrank 
back  from  him  though  his  arm  was  about  her 
shoulders  and  he  was  half  supporting  his  weight 
upon  her.  There  was  fear,  not  only  in  the  curi- 
ous little  glances  she  shot  at  me  from  time  to 
time,  but  also  in  the  averted  face.  Her  story  I 
was  to  learn.  She  was  not  of  the  class  from 
whence  Salvolio  found  the  dancers  who  from  time 
to  time  came  up  to  the  palace  for  his  amusement 
and  the  amusement  of  his  guests.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  Turkish  merchant  of  Scutari  who 
had  been  received  into  the  Catholic  Church. 

"Her  father  had  gone  down  to  Durazzo  during 
the  first  Balkan  war  and  then  Salvolio  had  seen 
the  girl  unknown  to  her  parent,  and  there  had 
been  some  rough  kind  of  courtship  which  ended 

320 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

in  her  running  away  on  this  very  day  and  joining 
her  ill-favoured  lover  at  the  palazzo,  I  tell  you 
this  because  the  fact  had  some  bearing  on  my  own 
fate. 

"As  I  say,  the  girl  was  frightened  and  made  as 
though  to  go  from  the  dungeon.  She  was  prob- 
ably scared  both  by  the  unkempt  prisoner  and  by 
the  drunken  man  at  her  side.  He,  however,  could 
not  leave  without  showing  to  her  something  of  his 
authority.  He  came  lurching  over  near  where  I 
lay,  his  long  knife  balanced  in  his  hand  ready  for 
emergencies,  and  broke  into  a  string  of  vitupera- 
tions of  the  character  to  which  I  was  quite  hard- 
ened. 

"Then  he  took  a  flying  kick  at  me  and  got  home 
in  my  ribs,  but  again  I  experienced  neither  a  sense 
of  indignity  nor  any  great  hurt.  Salvolio  had 
treated  me  like  this  before  and  I  had  survived  it. 
In  the  midst  of  the  tirade,  looking  past  him,  I  was 
a  new  witness  to  an  extraordinary  scene. 

"The  girl  stood  in  the  open  doorway,  shrink- 
ing back  against  the  door,  looking  with  distress 
and  pity  at  the  spectacle  which  Salvolio's  brutality 

8^1 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

afforded.  Then  suddenly  there  appeared  beside 
her  a  tall  Turk.  He  was  grey-bearded  and  for- 
bidding. She  looked  round  and  saw  him,  and  her 
mouth  opened  to  utter  a  cry,  but  with  a  gesture 
he  silenced  her  and  pointed  to  the  darkness  out- 
side. 

"Without  a  word  she  cringed  past  him,  her  san- 
dalled feet  making  no  noise.  All  this  time  Sal- 
volio  was  continuing  his  stream  of  abuse,  but  he 
must  have  seen  the  wonder  in  my  eyes  for  he 
stopped  and  turned. 

"The  old  Turk  took  one  stride  forward,  en- 
circled his  body  with  his  left  arm,  and  there  they 
stood  grotesquely  like  a  couple  who  were  going  to 
start  to  waltz.  The  Turk  was  a  head  taller  than 
Salvolio  and,  as  I  could  see,  a  man  of  immense 
strength. 

"They  looked  at  one  another,  face  to  face,  Sal- 
volio rapidly  recovering  his  senses  .  .  .  and  then 
the  Turk  gave  him  a  gentle  punch  in  the  ribs. 
That  is  what  it  seemed  like  to  me,  but  Salvolio 
coughed  horribly,  went  limp  in  the  other's  arms 
and  dropped  with  a  thud  to  the  ground.     The 

322 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Turk  leant  down  soberly  and  wiped  his  long  knife 
on  the  other's  jacket  before  he  put  it  back  in  the 
sash  at  his  waist. 

"Then  with  a  glance  at  me  he  turned  to  go, 
but  stopped  at  the  door  and  looked  back  thought- 
fully. He  said  something  in  Turkish  which  I 
could  not  understand,  then  he  spoke  in  French. 

"  'Who  are  you*?'  he  asked. 

*Tn  as  few  words  as  possible  I  explained.  He 
came  over  and  looked  at  the  manacle  about  my 
leg  and  shook  his  head. 

"  'You  will  never  be  able  to  get  that  undone/ 
he  said. 

"He  caught  hold  of  the  chain,  which  was  a 
fairly  long  one,  bound  it  twice  round  his  arm  and 
steadying  his  arm  across  his  thigh,  he  turned  with 
a  sudden  jerk.  There  was  a  smart  'snap'  as  the 
chain  parted.  He  caught  me  by  the  shoulder  and 
pulled  me  to  my  feet. 

"  Tut  the  chain  about  your  waist,  Effendi,'  he 
said,  and  he  took  a  revolver  from  his  belt  and 
handed  it  to  me. 

"  'You  may  need  this  before  we  ^et  back  to 
323 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Durazzo,'  he  said.  His  belt  was  literally  brist- 
ling with  weapons — I  saw  three  revolvers  beside 
the  one  I  possessed — and  he  "had  evidently  come 
prepared  for  trouble.  We  made  our  way  from 
the  dungeon  into  the  clean-smelling  world  with- 
out. 

"It  was  the  second  time  I  had  been  in  the  open 
air  for  eighteen  months  and  my  knees  were 
trembling  under  me  with  weakness  and  excite- 
ment. The  old  man  shut  the  prison  door  behind 
us  and  walked  on  until  we  came  up  to  the  girl 
waiting  for  us  by  the  lakeside.  She  was  weeping 
softly  and  he  spoke  to  her  a  few  words  in  a  low 
voice  and  her  weeping  ceased. 

"  'This  daughter  of  mine  will  show  us  the  way,' 
he  said,  T  do  not  know  this  part  of  the  country 
— she  knows  it  too  well.' 

"To  cut  a  long  story  short,"  said  Lexman,  "we 
reached  Durazzo  in  the  afternoon.  There  was 
no  atterfipt  made  to  follow  us  up  and  neither  my 
absence  nor  the  body  of  Salvolio  were  discovered 
until  late  in  the  afternoon.  You  must  remember 
that  nobody  but  Salvolio  was  allowed  into  my 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

prison  and  therefore  nobody  had  the  courage  to 
make  any  investigations. 

"The  old  man  got  me  to  his  house  without  be- 
ing observed,  and  brought  a  brother-in-law  or  some 
relative  of  his  to  remove  the  anklet.  The  name 
of  my  host  was  Hussein  Effendi. 

"That  same  night  we  left  with  a  little  cal-avan 
to  visit  some  of  the  old  man's  relatives.  He  was 
not  certain  what  would  be  the  consequence  of  his 
act,  and  for  safety's  sake  took  this  trip,  which 
would  enable  him  if  need  be  to  seek  sanctuary 
with  some  of  the  wilder  Turkish  tribes,  who  would 
give  him  protection. 

"In  that  three  months  I  saw  Albania  as  it  is — 
it  was  an  experience  never  to  be  forgotten! 

"If  there  is  a  better  man  in  God's  world  than 
Hiabam  Hussein  Effendi,  I  have  yet  to  meet  him. 
It  was  he  who  provided  me  with  money  to  leave 
Albania.  I  begged  from  him,  too,  the  knife  with 
which  he  had  killed  Salvolio.  He  had  discov- 
ered that  Kara  was  in  England  and  told  me  some- 
thing of  the  Greek's  occupation  which  I  had  not 
known  before.     I  crossed  to  Italy  and  went  on  to 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Milan.  There  it  was  that  I  learnt  that  an  ec- 
centric Englishman  who  had  arrived  a  few  days 
previously  on  one  of  the  South  American  boats  at 
Genoa,  was  in  my  hotel  desperately  ill. 

"My  hotel  I  need  hardly  tell  you  was  not  a  very 
expensive  one  and  we  were  evidently  the  only 
two  Englishmen  in  the  place.  I  could  do  no  less 
than  go  up  and  see  what  I  could  do  for  the  poor 
fellow  who  was  pretty  well  gone  when  I  saw  him. 
I  seemed  to  remember  having  seen  him  before  and 
when  looking  round  for  some  identification  I  dis- 
covered his  name  I  readily  recalled  the  circum- 
stance. 

"It  was  George  Gathercole,  who  had  returned 
from  South  America.  He  was  suffering  from 
malarial  fever  and  blood  poisoning  and  for  a  week, 
with  an  Italian  doctor,  I  fought  as  hard  as  any 
man  could  fight  for  his  life.  He  was  a  trying 
patient,"  John  Lexman  smiled  suddenly  at  the 
recollection,  "vitriolic  in  his  language,  impatient 
and  imperious  in  his  attitude  to  his  friends.  He 
was,  for  example,  terribly  sensitive  about  his  lost 
arm  and  would  not  allow  either  the  doctor  or  my- 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

self  to  enter  the  room  until  he  was  covered  to  the 
neck,  nor  would  he  eat  or  drink  in  our  presence. 
Yet  he  was  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  careless  of 
himself  and  only  fretful  because  he  had  not  time 
to  finish  his  new  book.  His  indomitable  spirit 
did  not  save  him.  He  died  on  the  17th  of  Janu- 
ary of  this  year.  I  was  in  Genoa  at  the  time,  hav- 
ing gone  there  at  his  request  to  save  his  belong- 
ings. When  I  returned  he  had  been  buried.  I 
went  through  his  papers  and  it  was  then  that  I 
conceived  my  idea  of  how  I  might  approach  Kara. 

"I  found  a  letter  from  the  Greek,  which  had 
been  addressed  to  Buenos  Ayres,  to  await  arrival, 
and  then  I  remembered  in  a  flash,  how  Kara  had 
told  me  he  had  sent  George  Gathercole  to  South 
America  to  report  upon  possible  gold  formations. 
I  was  determined  to  kill  Kara,  and  determined  to 
kill  him  in  such  a  way  that  I  myself  would  cover 
every  trace  of  my  complicity. 

"Even  as  he  had  planned  my  downfall,  schem- 
ing every  step  and  covering  his  trail,  so  did  I  plan 
to  bring  about  his  death  that  no  suspicion  should 
fall  on  me. 

827 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"I  knew  his  house.  I  knew  something  of  his 
habits.  I  knew  the  fear  in  which  he  went  when 
he  was  in  England  and  away  from  the  feudal 
guards  who  had  surrounded  him  in  Albania.  I 
knew  of  his  famous  door  with  its  steel  latch  and  I 
was  planning  to  circumvent  all  these  precautions 
and  bring  to  him  not  only  the  death  he  deserved, 
but  a  full  knowledge  of  his  fate  before  he 
died. 

"Gathercole  had  some  money,  about  £140.  I 
took  £100  of  this  for  my  own  use,  knowing  that 
I  should  have  sufficient  in  London  to  recompense 
his  heirs,  and  the  remainder  of  the  money  with 
all  such  documents  as  he  had,  save  those  which 
identified  him  with  Kara,  I  handed  over  to  the 
British  Consul. 

"I  was  not  unlike  the  dead  man.  My  beard 
had  grown  wild  and  I  knew  enough  of  Gather- 
cole's  eccentricities  to  live  the  part.  The  first 
step  I  took  was  to  announce  my  arrival  by  infer- 
ence. I  am  a  fairly  good  journalist  with  a  wide 
general  knowledge  and  with  this,  corrected  by 
reference  to  the  necessary  books  which  I  found  in 

S2S 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  British  Museum  library,  I  was  able  to  turn 
out  a  very  respectable  article  on  Patagonia. 

"This  I  sent  to  The  Times  with  one  of  Gather- 
cole's  cards  and,  as  you  know,  it  was  printed. 
My  next  step  was  to  find  suitable  lodgings  be- 
tween Chelsea  and  Scotland  Yard.  I  was  for- 
tunate in  being  able  to  hire  a  furnished  flat,  the 
owner  of  which  was  going  to  the  south  of  France 
for  three  months.  I  paid  the  rent  in  advance  and 
since  I  dropped  all  the  eccentricities  I  had  as- 
sumed to  support  the  character  of  Gathercole,  I 
must  have  impressed  the  owner,  who  took  me 
without  references. 

"I  had  several  suits  of  new  clothes  made,  not 
in  London,"  he  smiled,  "but  in  Manchester,  and 
again  I  made  myself  as  trim  as  possible  to  avoid 
after-identification.  When  I  had  got  these  to- 
gether in  my  flat,  I  chose  my  day.  In  the  morn- 
ing I  sent  two  trunks  with  most  of  my  personal 
belongings  to  the  Great  Midland  Hotel. 

"In  the  afternoon  I  went  to  Cadogan  Square 
and  hung  about  until  I  saw  Kara  drive  off.  It 
was  my  first  view  of  him  since  I  had  left  Albania 

3^9 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

and  it  required  all  my  self-control  to  prevent  me 
springing  at  him  in  the  street  and  tearing  at  him 
with  my  hands. 

"Once  he  was  out  of  sight  I  went  to  the  house 
adopting  all  the  style  and  all  the  mannerisms  of 
poor  Gathercole.  My  beginning  was  unfortu- 
nate for,  with  a  shock,  I  recognised  in  the  valet 
a  fellow-convict  who  had  been  with  me  in  the 
warder's  cottage  on  the  morning  of  my  escape 
from  Dartmoor.  There  was  no  mistaking  him, 
and  when  I  heard  his  voice  I  was  certain.  Would 
he  recognise  me  I  wondered,  in  spite  of  my  beard 
and  my  eye-glasses'? 

"Apparently  he  did  not.  I  gave  him  every 
chance.  I  thrust  my  face  into  his  and  on  my 
second  visit  challenged  him,  in  the  eccentric  way 
which  poor  old  Gathercole  had,  to  test  the  grey  of 
my  beard.  For  the  moment  however,  I  was  sat- 
isfied with  my  brief  experiment  and  after  a  rea- 
sonable interval  I  went  away,  returning  to  my 
place  off  Victoria  Street  and  waiting  till  the 
evening. 

"In  my  observation  of  the  house,  whilst  I  was 
S30 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

waiting  for  Kara  to  depart,  I  had  noticed  that 
there  were  two  distinct  telephone  wires  running 
down  to  the  roof.  I  guessed,  rather  than  knew, 
that  one  of  these  telephones  was  a  private  wire 
and,  knowing  something  of  Kara's  fear,  I  pre- 
sumed that  that  wire  would  lead  to  a  police  office, 
or  at  any  rate  to  a  guardian  of  some  kind  or  other. 
Kara  had  the  same  arrangement  in  Albania,  con- 
necting the  palazzo  with  the  gendarme  posts  at 
Alesso.     This  much  Hussein  told  me. 

"That  night  I  made  a  reconnaissance  of  the 
house  and  saw  Kara's  window  was  lit  and  at  ten 
minutes  past  ten  I  rang  the  bell  and  I  think  it  was 
then  that  I  applied  the  test  of  the  beard.  Kara 
was  in  his  room,  the  valet  told  me,  and  led  the 
way  upstairs.  I  had  come  prepared  to  deal  with 
this  valet  for  I  had  an  especial  reason  for  wishing 
that  he  should  not  be  interrogated  by  the  police. 
On  a  plain  card  I  had  written  the  number  he  bore 
in  Dartmoor  and  had  added  the  words,  T  know 
you,  get  out  of  here  quick.' 

"As  he  turned  to  lead  the  way  upstairs  I  flung 
the  envelope  containing  the  card  on  the  table  in 

331 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

the  hall.  In  an  inside  pocket,  as  near  to  my  body 
as  I  could  put  them,  I  had  the  two  candles.  How 
I  should  use  them  both  I  had  already  decided. 
The  valet  ushered  me  into  Kara's  room  and  once 
more  I  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  man  who  had 
killed  my  girl  and  blotted  out  all  that  was  beauti- 
ful in  life  for  me." 

There  was  a  breathless  silence  when  he  paused. 
T.  X.  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  his  head  upon  his 
breast,  his  arms  folded,  his  eyes  watching  the 
other  intently. 

The  Chief  Commissioner,  with  a  heavy  frown 
and  pursed  lips,  sat  stroking  his  moustache  and 
looking  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows  at  the  speaker. 
The  French  police  officer,  his  hands  thrust  deep  in 
his  pockets,  his  head  on  one  side,  was  taking  in 
every  word  eagerly.  The  sallow-faced  Russian, 
impassive  of  face,  might  have  been  a  carved  ivory 
mask.  O'Grady,  the  American,  the  stump  of  a 
dead  cigar  between  his  teeth,  shifted  impatiently 
with  every  pause  as  though  he  would  hurry  for- 
ward the  denouement. 

332 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Presently  John  Lexman  went  on. 

"He  slipped  from  the  bed  and  came  across  to 
meet  me  as  I  closed  the  door  behind  me. 

"  'Ah,  Mr.  Gathercole,'  he  said,  in  that  silky 
tone  of  his,  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"I  did  not  speak.  I  just  looked  at  him  with  a 
sort  of  fierce  joy  in  my  heart  the  like  of  which  I 
had  never  before  experienced. 

"  'And  then  he  saw  in  my  eyes  the  truth  and 
half  reached  for  the  telephone. 

"But  at  that  moment  I  was  on  him.  He  was 
a  child  in  my  hands.  All  the  bitter  anguish  he 
had  brought  upon  me,  all  the  hardships  of  starved 
days  and  freezing  nights  had  strengthened  and 
hardened  me.  I  had  come  back  to  London  dis- 
guised with  a  false  arm  and  this  I  shook  free.  It 
was  merely  a  gauntlet  of  thin  wood  which  I  had 
had  made  for  me  in  Paris. 

"I  flung  him  back  on  the  bed  and  half  knelt, 
half  laid  on  him. 

"  'Kara,'  I  said,  'you  are  going  to  die,  a  more 
merciful  death  than  my  wife  died.' 

333 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

"He  tried  to  speak.  His  soft  hands  gesticu- 
lated wildly,  but  I  was  half  lying  on  one  arm  and 
held  the  other. 

"I  whispered  in  his  ear: 

"  'Nobody  will  know  who  killed  you,  Kara, 
think  of  that  I  I  shall  go  scot  free — and  you  will 
be  the  centre  of  a  fine  mystery  I  All  your  letters 
will  be  read,  all  your  life  will  be  examined  and 
the  world  will  know  you — for  what  you  are !' 

"I  released  his  arm  for  just  as  long  as  it  took 
to  draw  my  knife  and  strike.  I  think  he  died 
instantly,"  John  Lexman  said  simply. 

'T  left  him  where  he  was  and  went  to  the  door. 
I  had  not  much  time  to  spare.  I  took  the  candles 
from  my  pocket.  They  were  already  ductile 
from  the  heat  of  my  body. 

*T  lifted  up  the  steel  latch  of  the  door  and 
propped  up  the  latch  with  the  smaller  of  the  two 
candles,  one  end  of  which  was  on  the  middle 
socket  and  the  other  beneath  the  latch.  The  heat 
of  the  room  I  knew  would  still  further  soften  the 
candle  and  let  the  latch  down  in  a  short  time. 

"I  was  prepared  for  the  telephone  by  his  bed- 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

side  though  I  did  not  know  to  whither  it  led. 
The  presence  of  the  paper-knife  decided  me.  I 
balanced  it  across  the  silver  cigarette  box  so  that 
one  end  came  under  the  telephone  receiver;  under 
the  other  end  I  put  the  second  candle  which  I  had 
to  cut  to  fit.  On  top  of  the  paper-knife  at  the 
candle  end  I  balanced  the  only  two  books  I  could 
find  in  the  room,  and  fortunately  they  were  heavy. 

'T  had  no  means  of  knowing  how  long  it  would 
take  to  melt  the  candle  to  a  state  of  flexion  which 
would  allow  the  full  weight  of  the  books  to  bear 
upon  the  candle  end  of  the  paper-knife  and  fling 
off  the  receiver.  I  was  hoping  that  Fisher  had 
taken  my  warning  and  had  gone.  When  I  op- 
ened the  door  softly,  I  heard  his  footsteps  in  the 
hall  below.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  fin- 
ish the  play. 

*T  turned  and  addressed  an  imaginary  conver- 
sation to  Kara.  It  was  horrible,  but  there  was 
something  about  it  which  aroused  in  me  a  curious 
sense  of  humour  and  I  wanted  to  laugh  and  laugh 
and  laugh  I 

"I  heard  the  man  coming  up  the  stairs  and 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

closed  the  door  gingerly.  What  length  of  time 
would  it  take  for  the  candle  to  bend? 

*'To  completely  establish  the  alibi  I  determined 
to  hold  Fisher  in  conversation  and  this  was  all  the 
easier  since  apparently  he  had  not  seen  the  en- 
velope I  had  left  on  the  table  downstairs.  I  had 
not  long  to  wait  for  suddenly  with  a  crash  I  heard 
the  steel  latch  fall  in  its  place.  Under  the  effect 
of  the  heat  the  candle  had  bent  sooner  than  I  had 
expected.  I  asked  Fisher  what  was  the  meaning 
of  the  sound  and  he  explained.  I  passed  down 
the  stairs  talking  all  the  time.  I  found  a  cab  at 
Sloane  Square  and  drove  to  my  lodgings.  Un- 
derneath my  overcoat  I  was  partly  dressed  in 
evening  kit. 

"Ten  minutes  after  I  entered  the  door  of  my 
flat  I  came  out  a  beardless  man  about  town,  not  to 
be  distinguished  from  the  thousand  others  who 
would  be  found  that  night  walking  the  promenade 
of  any  of  the  great  music-halls.  From  Victoria 
Street  I  drove  straight  to  Scotland  Yard.  It  was 
no  more  than  a  coincidence  that  whilst  I  should 
have   been   speaking   with   you   all,   the   second 

336 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

candle  should  have  bent  and  the  alarm  be  given 
in  the  very  office  in  which  I  was  sitting. 

"I  assure  you  all  in  all  earnestness  that  I  did 
not  suspect  the  cause  of  that  ringing  until  Mr. 
Mansus  spoke. 

"There,  gentlemen,  is  my  story!'*  He  threw 
out  his  arms. 

"You  may  do  with  me  as  you  will.  Kara  was 
a  murderer,  dyed  a  hundred  times  in  innocent 
blood.  I  have  done  all  that  I  set  myself  to  do — 
that  and  no  more — that  and  no  less.  I  had 
thought  to  go  away  to  America,  but  the  nearer  the 
day  of  my  departure  approached,  the  more  vivid 
became  the  memory  of  the  plans  which  she  and  I 
had  formed,  my  girl  .  .  .  my  poor  martyred 
girl!" 

He  sat  at  the  little  table,  his  hands  clasped  be- 
fore him,  his  face  lined  and  white. 

"And  that  is  the  end  I"  he  said  suddenly,  with  a 
wry  smile. 

"Not  quite!" 

T.  X.  swung  round  with  a  gasp.  It  was  Be- 
linda Mary  who  spoke. 

837 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

*T  can  carry  it  on,"  she  said. 

She  was  wonderfully  self-possessed,  thought  T. 
X.,  but  then  T.  X.  never  thought  anything  of  her 
but  that  she  was  "wonderfully"  something  or  the 
other. 

"Most  of  your  story  is  true,  Mr.  Lexman,"  said 
this  astonishing  girl,  oblivious  of  the  amazed  eyes 
that  were  staring  at  her,  "but  Kara  deceived  you 
in  one  respect." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  John  Lexman, 
rising  unsteadily  to  his  feet. 

For  answer  she  rose  and  walked  back  to  the 
door  with  the  chintz  curtains  and  flung  it  open. 
There  was  a  wait  which  seemed  an  eternity,  and 
then  through  the  doorway  came  a  girl,  slim  and 
grave  and  beautiful. 

"My  God!"  whispered  T.  X.  "Grace  Lex- 
man!" 


S98 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

They  went  out  and  left  them  alone,  two  people 
who  found  in  this  moment  a  heaven  which  is  not 
beyond  the  reach  of  humanity,  but  which  is  seldom 
attained  to.  Belinda  Mary  had  an  eager  audi- 
ence all  to  her  very  self. 

"Of  course  she  didn't  die,"  she  said  scornfully; 
"Kara  was  playing  on  his  fears  all  the  time.  He 
never  even  harmed  her — in  the  way  Mr.  Lexman 
feared.  He  told  Mrs.  Lexman  that  her  husband 
was  dead  just  as  he  told  John  Lexman  his  wife 
was  gone.  What  happened  was  that  he  brought 
her  back  to  England — " 

"Who?"  asked  T.  X.,  incredulously. 

"Grace  Lexman,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  smile. 
"You  wouldn't  think  it  possible,  but  when  you 
realize  that  he  had  a  yacht  of  his  own  and  that  he 
could  travel  up  from  whatever  landing  place  he 
chose  to  his  house  in  Cadogan  Square  by  motor- 
car and  that  he  could  take  her  straight  away  into 

339 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

his  cellar  without  disturbing  his  household,  you'll 
understand  that  the  only  difficulty  he  had  was  in 
landing  her.  It  was  in  the  lower  cellar  that  I 
found  her." 

"You  found  her  in  the  cellar?"  demanded  the 
Chief  Con::missioner. 

The  girl  nodded. 

*T  found  her  and  the  dog — you  heard  how  Kara 
terrified  her — and  I  killed  the  dog  with  my  own 
hands,"  she  said  a  little  proudly,  and  then  shiv- 
ered.    "It  was  very  beastly,"  she  admitted. 

"And  she's  been  living  with  you  all  this  time 
and  you've  said  nothing?"  asked  T.  X.,  incredu- 
lously.    Belinda  Mary  nodded. 

"And  that  is  why  you  didn't  want  me  to  know 
where  you  were  living'?"     She  nodded  again. 

"You  see  she  was  very  ill,"  she  said,  "and  I 
had  to  nurse  her  up,  and  of  course  I  knew  that  it 
was  Lexman  who  had  killed  Kara  and  I  couldn't 
tell  you  about  Grace  Lexman  without  betraying 
him.  So  when  Mr.  Lexman  decided  to  tell  his 
story,  I  thought  I'd  better  supply  the  grand  de- 
nouement." 

340 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  men  looked  at  one  another. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  Lexman?" 
asked  the  Chief  Commissioner,  "and,  by  the  way, 
T.  X.,  how  does  all  this  fit  your  theories^" 

"Fairly  well,"  replied  T.  X.  coolly;  "obviously 
the  man  who  committed  the  murder  was  the  man 
introduced  into  the  room  as  Gathercole  and  as  ob- 
viously it  was  not  Gathercole,  although  to  all  ap- 
pearance, he  had  lost  his  left  arm." 

"Why  obvious?"  asked  the  Chief  Commis- 
sioner. 

"Because,"  answered  T.  X.  Meredith,  "the  real 
Gathercole  had  lost  his  right  arm — that  was  the 
one  error  Lexman  made." 

"H'm,"  the  Chief  pulled  at  his  moustache  and 
looked  enquiringly  round  the  room,  "we  have  to 
make  up  our  minds  very  quickly  about  Lexman," 
he  said.     "What  do  you  think,  Carlneau*?" 

The  Frenchman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"For  my  part  I  should  not  only  importune  your 
Home  Secretary  to  pardon  him,  but  I  should  rec- 
ommend him  for  a  pension,"  he  said  flippantly. 

"What  do  you  think,  Savorsky*?" 
341 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  Russian  smiled  a  little. 

*Tt  is  a  very  impressive  story,"  he  said  dispas- 
sionately; "it  occurs  to  me  that  if  you  intend 
bringing  your  M.  Lexman  to  judgment  you  are 
likely  to  expose  some  very  pretty  scandals.  In- 
cidentally," he  said,  stroking  his  trim  little  mous- 
tache, "I  might  remark  that  any  exposure  which 
drew  attention  to  the  lawless  conditions  of  Al- 
bania would  not  be  regarded  by  my  government 
with  favour." 

The  Chief  Commissioner's  eyes  twinkled  and  he 
nodded. 

"That  is  also  my  view,"  said  the  Chief  of  the 
Italian  bureau;  "naturally  we  are  greatly  inter- 
ested in  all  that  happens  on  the  Adriatic  littoral. 
It  seems  to  me  that  Kara  has  come  to  a  very  mer- 
ciful end  and  I  am  not  inclined  to  regard  a  prose- 
cution of  Mr.  Lexman  with  equanimity." 

"Well,  I  guess  the  political  aspect  of  the  case 
doesn't  affect  us  very  much,"  said  O'Grady,  "but 
as  one  who  was  once  mighty  near  asphyxiated  by 
stirring  up  the  wrong  kind  of  mud,  I  should  leave 
the  matter  where  it  is." 

343 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

The  Chief  Commissioner  was  deep  in  thought 
and  Belinda  Mary  eyed  him  anxiously. 

"Tell  them  to  come  in,"  he  said  bluntly. 

The  girl  went  and  brought  John  Lexman  and 
his  wife,  and  they  came  in  hand  in  hand  supremely 
and  serenely  happy  whatever  the  future  might 
hold  for  them.  The  Chief  Commissioner  cleared 
his  throat. 

"Lexman,  we're  all  very  much  obliged  to  you," 
he  said,  "for  a  very  interesting  story  and  a  most 
interesting  theory.  What  you  have  done,  as  I 
understand  the  matter,"  he  proceeded  deliber- 
ately, "is  to  put  yourself  in  the  murderer's  place 
and  advance  a  theory  not  only  as  to  how  the  mur- 
der was  actually  committed,  but  as  to  the  motive 
for  that  murder.  It  is,  I  might  say,  a  remarkable 
piece  of  reconstruction,"  he  spoke  very  deliber- 
ately, and  swept  away  John  Lexman's  astonished 
interruption  with  a  stem  hand,  "please  wait  and 
do  not  speak  until  I  am  out  of  hearing,"  he 
growled.  "You  have  got  into  the  skin  of  the  ac- 
tual assassin  and  have  spoken  most  convincingly. 
One  might  almost  think  that  the  man  who  killed 

343 


THE  CLUE  OF  THE  TWISTED  CANDLE 

Remington  Kara  was  actually  standing  before  us. 
For  that  piece  of  impersonation  we  are  all  very 
grateful,"  he  glared  round  over  his  spectacles  at 
his  understanding  colleagues  and  they  murmured 
approvingly. 

He  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Now  I  am  afraid  I  must  be  off,"  he  crossed 
the  room  and  put  out  his  hand  to  John  Lexman. 
"I  wish  you  good  luck,"  he  said,  and  took  both 
Grace  Lexman's  hands  in,  his.  "One  of  these 
days,"  he  said  paternally,  "I  shall  come  down  to 
Beston  Tracey  and  your  husband  shall  tell  me 
another  and  a  happier  story." 

He  paused  at  the  door  as  he  was  going  out  and 
looking  back  caught  the  grateful  eyes  of  Lexman. 

"By  the  way,  Mr.  Lexman,"  he  said  hesitat- 
ingly, "I  don't  think  I  should  ever  write  a  story 
called  'The  Clue  of  the  Twisted  Candle,'  if  I  were 
you." 

John  Lexman  shook  his  head. 

"It  will  never  be  written,"  he  said,  " — by  me." 

THE    END 


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